Building on rubble
by LightningWolfHowl
Summary: Adrien and Nathalie are out. Free from Hawk Moth but alone. What better to do than to try and bury what one was and start a new life, with new identities? Easier said than done when miraculouses, supervillains and teenagers are involved. A series of shorts.
1. Like thieves in the night

The door opens slowly with a loud creak despite the best efforts of the woman to make the least amount of noise possible. It's stormy outside. The small apartment seems to rattle as a draft gusts through the place.

There's an unpleasant damp odour lingering in the room and something else which the fourteen year old can't quite put his finger on as he steps in. It's dark, dingy and there's mould on one of the walls. This isn't what he had been hoping for… Drenched to the bone and still shaking from events which he still haunt him, he had been hoping for somewhere warm, comfortable and dry… This place looks as if it had been abandoned a couple of days ago by some squatters. He stands there, looking around as if this is some alien planet.

"This is it." The woman informs him simply.

She doesn't pretend that it's any nicer than it is but neither does she dwell on the unpleasantness. This is their new reality and there's no sense either denying it or embellishing it. The woman dumps the bag which has been weighing heavily on her shoulder for the past few hours on the couch. The teen's still wandering round in something of a haze. He doesn't quite seem to be able to take in his surroundings. His companion watches him in silence. In other circumstances, she might tell him to pull his act together and not to look so listless but they're both a bit too tired for that right now.

Instead, she makes her way over to the fuse box which is in the corner of the room, only just managing to cling to the wall. She flicks the few switches. A lightbulb flickers on overhead and a loud humming confirms that the fridge is now working.

The teen winces, shielding his eyes from the sudden influx of light. It allows him to view the room in all of its non-existent glory. It arguably looked better with the lights turned out. At least he couldn't see the damp in quite so much detail… He doesn't comment. There's not much to comment about. The carpet's been torn up in several places making for a potential tripping hazard, in places the wallpaper is peeling off of the wall and one of the windows with a charming view of the peripherique seems to be held in place with some duct tape. There's only a couch, a coffee table and a shabby armchair in terms of furniture. In the corner of the room, is a tiny fridge and a cooker which even he can tell belongs on a skip.

"You live here?" The young man finally pulls himself together enough to speak.

"No. Not exactly." There's something of a stern look about her, as if she's anticipating complaints. "I bought it in case things went south with your father and I needed to lie low for a while."

The teen doesn't respond and the woman doesn't take offence at how quiet he's being. Instead, she gives him a tour. It's the world's fastest tour. Here is the one bedroom (just ignore the broken glass) where I will be sleeping and here is the bathroom (yes there is no toilet seat). Adding to the overall charm of the inside is the sound of some rowdy and drunken individuals outside. Not all of whom were outside of the building. Still, the young man doesn't complain. He seems to accept that this is what he's going to have to live with.

She manages to get the pot to simmer as she pours in some tomato sauce. The boy is changing in the bathroom, his clothes were drenched so he chooses pyjamas instead. She's already in more casual clothes, abandoning her expensive suit in favour of a jumper and set of jeans. It's not warm in the flat, it goes without saying that there's no central heating and the radiator died probably two decades ago. The boy emerges from the room a few minutes later, his hair's still drenched. He sits down on the couch quietly. He refuses to speak, fixing the city lights in the distance, lost in thought. Somewhere out there was his home. This will be strange for him… She doesn't linger on what it's like for him for too long.

She knows it's going to be hell for him. It doesn't need much more reflection than that.

She puts two warm bowls of pasta and sauce down on the table, settling in the armchair before taking her own. It's not much but it's better than nothing. The boy pushes his around for a moment before tentatively taking a few mouthfuls, hunger getting the better of stress and fear. Content that at least he'll eat something tonight, she finished her owl food.

"How long are we going to have to stay here?" He speaks quietly on the few occasions that he does break the silence.

"Hopefully not long. Until I come up with some kind of plan or until Gabriel Agreste moves out of Paris."

The fourteen year old doesn't answer. He's likely been expecting as much but it's perhaps not what he wanted to hear. He finished his meal without saying so much as another word. She doesn't push any further. The silence suits her as well. They've already talked enough today. Things are as clear as they need to be. She picks up the bowls when they're done and washes them. For tonight, he can escape chores. She's going to be as lenient as possible. He sits there awkwardly for a while, with nothing better to do, his kwami hovering nearby. For all of his faults, Plagg has realized that this wasn't the time to create mischief.

Exhausted, the woman is content to simply sit in the armchair, with her head lying back. The events of the day replay in her mind. It's insane. She's insane to be doing this. At best, she's risking jail time for this, at worst… She doesn't even want to think about it. Her gaze rests upon the young man for a few moments. He's lost. That much is clear. Staring blankly at the table now. It's a lot for him to take in.

"Go to bed." Her instruction is firm, leaving no room for debate.

Not bed so much as the couch. It's better than nothing and all that she has to offer. He nods slowly. They brought a few supplies with them. It's not much and she can't help but feel a twinge of pity as she watches the boy struggle to make himself comfortable on what is not a comfortable sofa. He lies there, pulling the blanket up so as to keep warm. Once she's sure he might be able to find some rest. She gets up from her chair, rubbing her strained and tired eyes as she goes.

"Goodnight Nathalie..." Comes the tired mumble from the couch as she retires.

"Goodnight..." She whispers back softly as a reply.

Tomorrow things will look different. Good or bad, she can't say but they would be different.


	2. Come morning

When Adrien emerges from the worst shower he's pretty much sure anyone has had to endure. He's wise enough not to complain about it to Nathalie. The woman's already got breakfast set up, such as it is. They'd had a chef in the mansion. Now, it's cereal and orange juice. The woman's made herself some coffee as she checks the news on her laptop. The teen sits down in silence. His appetite has returned over the course of the night. He's quick to tuck into his bowl, taking a good few mouthfuls before opening his mouth, ready to speak:

"There's no hot water, the pressure from the shower is almost non-existent and the few drops that do come out smell like rotten eggs, I'm aware."

She knows this is a dump as much as he does. This doesn't suit either of them but at the same time, as of last night, it's all either of them have.

Complaining would be a terrible mistake. He's conscientious enough to realize that he should be grateful for simply being here. Nathalie's taken enough risks as it is and doesn't deserve to be punished by having him behaving like some spoiled brat. He feels terrible, in just about every way someone who's been put in his position can feel terrible but he doesn't inform her about that much. He knows that she knows. So instead of getting irritated by his surroundings or by the fact that she had incorrectly guessed what he was going to say, he laughs softly. Anything to try and lighten the decidedly grim mood.

"I was going to ask what you're reading about." He clarifies a moment later.

"Thankfully, the news is bereft of stories about personal assistants kidnapping teenage model sons of millionaire fashion designers." The woman doesn't raise her gaze to meet his as she speaks.

"So the gamble paid off then?" He asks, the end of the sentence raising in a hopeful tone.

"It looks that way. For the time being at least."

With no work to do right now – at least not any that he recognizes as being such – she's burying herself in something else, that is to say the news. Adrien eats his breakfast in silence, not wanting to disturb her and potentially get on her nerves. It's awkward for both of them in every way imaginable. It's only made worse by the presence of a massive elephant in the room which for the moment, Nathalie seems to be inclined to try and ignore.

The teen shifts nervously. From time to time, he risks giving the woman a glance. If she'd noticed his hesitation, he's not acknowledging him. He suspects that she knows what's on his mind. The fact that she's ignoring him means one of two things: either she's sick of the matter and doesn't want to discuss it any further or she's just as terrified as he is at the prospect of what they've just done as he is. Finally, after a few moments, he can't take it any longer and asks in a quiet and hushed voice, as if he was afraid that speaking too loudly might cause some dreadful event to befall them:

"So… Are we going to talk about dad?"

"We already have. Excessively." Nathalie doesn't look up from the screen.

"Yeah but- It's just..." He can't even bring himself to formulate things correctly.

"I'm going to go and get some supplies." The woman declares, standing up. "Stay away from the windows and don't answer the door."

Adrien nods a few times, lowering his head.

It takes Nathalie a little bit longer than it might otherwise have to get dressed. She might not be internationally famous but she's still well-known enough to be recognised. She lets her hair down. A lack of make-up, taking off her glasses and being dressed in civilian clothes she deems with work well-enough. She'll be quick. They have no friends in this part of the city, no clients and nobody liable to pick her out in a crowd. Adrien's a different kettle of fish. One they'll have to deal with eventually.

"He's going to come after us, isn't he?" The teen speaks quietly as she reaches for the doorknob.

"Of course he is." Nathalie doesn't even hesitate with her answer. "Which is why we have to be ready."


	3. Chess pieces

**_Thanks for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

Three days pass.

The quiet is somewhat eerie. Well, the quiet in their little apartment. Given that it's just the two of them, they don't talk much. Too much has happened. Adrien's hurt, betrayed, although he won't admit to that much. It's plain to see by the looks he gives her from time to time. They're not exactly hostile but as the days have passed with little more to do than set and reflect upon the mess they've gotten themselves into and how they came to be in it in the first place, he's began to realize that she's not exactly a hero whisking him away to safety.

She shoulders the silent blame without complaining. In retrospect, it's comparatively mild given what she stands accused of.

Adrien spends his time reading or daydreaming. She tries to discourage the latter as much as possible, asking him to do one chore or another to try and stop the house from falling apart. It's not healthy for him to spend so much time wrapped up in his sorrows. He's done enough of that for a lifetime. To the teen's credit, he's making what could have been a nightmarish cohabitation as bearable as it could possibly be. He's quiet and doesn't complain when something is asked of him. He's even refrained from asking too many questions much to her relief. It's been quiet and uncomfortable but after three days, she's reasonably confident that nobody knows where they are. That can only be a good thing.

She checks the news regularly. At least every three hours, ready to bolt should they succeed in making headlines. At 11.15, she's not disappointed. Fear grips her momentarily as she clicks on the link, opening it in a new page and slowly daring to read through it. Her body relaxes as she does so, letting out an internal sigh of relief. The news could have been better but it's not as bad as she had feared that it might be. The woman glances over to the couch where Adrien's lying on his stomach, reading a book, his kwami perched on his shoulder peering down at the pages with little enthusiasm. At least she can finally give him some of the news she knows she'd been longing for:

"Adrien." In a flash, his head shoots up, no doubt fearing the worse. "There's news."

She carries the laptop over to him. He sits up, making some room so that she might be able to sit next to him.

It's crazy the little things in life that when deprived of them, you ended up missing. A decent table and chairs was one such thing. Nathalie has found herself confined to an armchair if she wanted to sit anywhere. Adrien had claimed the couch as his own. Which wasn't to say that he objected to her sitting next to him should she want to share something with him on the computer but generally, she tries not to crowd the boy.

He peers down at the screen as she puts the laptop down on the coffee table. She allows the teen to read at his own leisure, to ensure that he makes sense of it all. He reads it a couple of times at least. Going over some parts in detail to avoid missing a trick. It's plain to see on the boy's face that he's thinking it over to the best of his ability. He doesn't quite know what to make of it all. He seems a bit confused. Frowning at the words, it's hard to avoid the cold eyes of his father on the picture. It's as if they're peering out, judging them silently. For a relatively short article, it must take the teen about ten minutes before he's finally done. Nathalie doesn't interrupt. He has all the time in the world as far as she's concerned. Finally, he dares to speak in an uncertain voice:

"This is… Good for us, right?"

"It means your father doesn't know where we are but he knows we're lying low." Nathalie replies calmly. "A nonsense story like this… He might also be trying to bait us."

"Bait us?" The teen questions nervously. "How-"

"Make us think he thinks we've fled the city. Wait until we do something careless..." She removes her glasses, cleaning the glass with a piece of cloth. "One thing's for sure: he won't give up. Not until he's got what he wants."

Adrien's eyes remain fixed upon the image of his father. There had been no "goodbyes" bitter or sweet. Their escape had been a cloak and dagger operation, done in the dead of night with little to no warning. The teen's still trying to make sense of the situation.

Apparently, he's left Paris. Going away to finish his schooling in one of the world's finest academy's, on the other side of the planet of course. Who better to accompany him than his father's own assistant? The two of them won't be seen any more and that suits a man who has lost track of both. He must have realized as soon as she had failed to show up and give him his schedule first thing in the morning that something wasn't quite right. Adrien's absence – if he'd even noticed it initially- would only confirm his worst suspicions. She dared not imagine the fury he must have flown into. They had risked it all. Now there's hell to pay. Unless she can see how to steer both of them clear from disaster.

She takes a sip of coffee. These past few years, it runs through her veins almost as much as blood.

"It's a stalemate." Nathalie declares putting her mug back down on the table. "He can't go looking for us publicly without questions being asked. Your father won't want the press sniffing around, I can guarantee that much. On the other hand, we can't move against him. We're not strong enough."

"You know that for sure?" There's a fearful timidity behind the question.

"Yes." The woman declared grimly. "He's a desperate man with nothing to lose as he sees it."

"What about Ladybug… And the others? Together, we might be able to take him down."

There is the offensive strategy. Nathalie would be lying to herself if she said she hadn't already thought of it, going straight to the police. There were two issues: Emily (something she was unwilling to bring up quite yet given how emotional her son could be) and of course the somewhat selfish matter of the fact that her hands weren't exactly clean in the matter either. Gabriel could land her in a world of trouble with only a handful of words.

She toys with the idea of revealing the truth to the teenager, of being utterly honest. Could she control him? Stop him from acting on impulse and doing something stupid? It's hard to say. This is not a situation she ever wanted to find herself in. Her gaze drifts back to the image of her former employer. A man dedicated to a single objective and who will stop at nothing before he achieves his victory. What chance did two – maybe five if they called in their friends – children stand against Hawk Moth? If they've survived this long it's been thanks to a mixture of luck and some truly terrible decisions.

The woman asks him a very simple question. She aims to deflect attention from some of the shadier aspects of the matter and protect herself in the process. That and she's genuinely curious:

"Could you fight your father, Adrien?"

He opens his mouth for a second but nothing comes out. To her surprise, rather than act quickly on impulse and a rush of blood to the head, he stops. He hesitates and thinks. It's a terribly complicated affair. She's rather impressed.

When he looks up at her, green eyes awash with doubt, she understands. He's still a child. Too young to be faced with such a situation. He's lost his mother. His father is a man he can't recognize any more and he's just run away with his father's assistant to some dump at the other end of Paris. Right now, there's no way that he can fight his father. Maybe, he might be able to work himself up enough to talk a hard game and even convince himself that he'll actually be able to fight the man but when it comes down to it? There's little doubt in her mind that knowing who lies behind the mask, Adrien Agreste cannot fight Gabriel. He's too kind a person and the other too terrible.

"What are we going to do?" Again, he looks to her now, she's the one who talked him into this.

Nathalie lets out an exasperated sigh, throwing her head back. She doesn't attempt to conceal her exasperation. This is not a position that she ever wanted to be in. If it were just her life, she might be more reckless but with an innocent fourteen year old in tow, things are a good deal more complicated. Of course, miraculouses being mixed into the mess makes things all the worse. She takes a minute or so, trying to gather her thoughts together. A part of her regrets showing such weakness in front of Adrien. It's not going to help build his confidence. On the other hand, she's plainly exhausted.

He waits patiently. Still quiet, still fearful. The world he knew has been turned on its head. She has become the only source of familiarity. So he turns to her. Hoping that she's got some great plan which he can't think of and that will save both of them.

"If it were up to me; I'd take you out of the city, ideally out of the country but something tells me that Cat Noir's not going to want to leave Ladybug to face a horde of akumas by herself."

"No. We can't abandon her." For once, he sounds firm in his resolution.

"I thought you might say that." She slips her glasses back on. "In which case, our best bet is to wait things out. Either Hawk Moth will tire and will see sense, he'll be defeated or you will… At any rate, I don't see that we have many other options."

"So… We lie low and wait?" Adrien raises an eyebrow.

"We lie low and wait." Nathalie confirms with a single nod.

"Well this is going to be boring..." Plagg declares.

Nathalie was rather inclined to agree. The die is cast. She knows there's no going back now.


	4. Game plan

At this point, it's been a little over a week. Things have finally come to a boil, in every sense of the word.

The mercury topped out earlier at 42°C. July in Paris has always been an unpleasant affair. No wonder so many leave at this time of the year. The stifling heat makes it near impossible to think. It's been half an hours since Nathalie first started trying to make sense of their incredibly limited finances. What should have been a relatively simple – if disheartening – affair is drawing out interminably as her mind refuses to pull itself together so as to allow her to finish coming to the conclusion that they're in trouble. At this point, she's pretty much given up and instead lies on the couch a hand resting on her sweaty brow.

Her gaze is focused on the teen. He sits on the floor in the "kitchen" part of their little arrangement. There are some tiles there, they're cooler apparently. Earlier on in the afternoon, he'd given her a fright when she'd found both Adrien and his kwami lying there on the floor. After being reassured that they hadn't in fact passed out, she'd decided to let them be. The heat is making both of them – and in all likelihood herself – rather irritable.

All of the windows were open. Even those which it probably wasn't safe to do so. ANYTHING to get a through draft…

With his head resting against the glass, the teen looks out over the city in the distance. His expression is sombre, longing for the outside world which he has been denied. He's been sitting there for some hours now. The only time he moves is to sit up and either drink from the tap or splash his face in water. He longs for the outside, she knows that much but right now it's simply not safe. Were he less well known, then it might have been possible for them to take a chance and go for a walk or something after dark. Given how famous Adrien is however, she's been forced to confine him indoors. In the past, he'd never managed to vanish. Someone would always spot him and post something to social media about it. No doubt Gabriel will be trawling sites, looking for the slightest hint of his son's whereabouts.

It's a thought that causes the woman to shudder.

"Stay away from the windows..." She's lost track of how often she's told him that.

"We're on the twelfth floor!" There's a slight whinge that lets her know he's run out of patience.

She raises her head, narrowing her eyes as she gives him a brief glare. The first few days, such a look was enough to instantly snap the teen to attention.

The past two however Adrien's pushing things. He's testing the limits. Perhaps, the fourteen year old has figured out that this is going to be quite a lengthy cohabitation. He knew where he stood with his father's assistant. She'd lost that title. In fact, one of the issues she's having is that she doesn't have a title. She's not his mother, friend or teacher. They've abruptly become equals. The only reason she suspects he's not giving her more trouble is due to his comparatively easy-going nature and the age gap. That and he's lost and afraid. She is as well of course but she's better at hiding it. That and she knows that if she doesn't keep it together, then they're both heading for trouble.

Eventually, he begrudgingly pulls himself away from the window. He makes no attempt to conceal his frustration however. Getting up with an audible grumble which she's not about to scold (it's too hot for such things), the teen stomps into the middle of the room. Nathalie tries her best to ignore him, closing her eyes in an effort to indicate that she's too tired to deal with any childish sulks right now. Adrien's not that far away, she can sense that. His eyes are resting upon her, wondering whether or not to push things just that little bit further.

He lets out an angry sigh and Nathalie shudders inside, realizing that she's not going to escape confrontation this time:

"I'm going nuts!" He declares with a wave of the hand.

"What do you want me to do?" Nathalie opens her eyes, shooting him a glare. "Smuggle you out with a bag over your head?"

"Could you?"

He actually sounds hopeful. It's enough to catch her off-guard. She has do take a double-take to ensure that she hasn't missed a trick. She's not entirely sure if he's serious or not.

Exasperated, the woman sits up. Some part of her wondering how she ever ended up in such a situation. It seems as if they're going over the same thing again and again. They probably are. She's sure they've had this conversation before. At least Plagg has the common sense to keep out of the matter. He contented himself with eating the occasional piece of cheese (which given the heat had had to be confined to the fridge for reasons of public health and safety) and otherwise lounging around. Curiously, the kwami doesn't seem to be all that bothered by events. Perhaps he's lived through worse or simply figures that everything will work itself out eventually.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Nathalie does her best to gather her wits and work out how best to rephrase things for what must be at least the eight time. She's at her wit's end but decides to make one final effort before getting more forceful:

"You can't go outside Adrien. Your face is all over Paris and the papers. If anyone recognized you then we'd both be done for."

"There's got to be something we can do! I can't spend the rest of my life up here!" He pauses for a moment, clearly reflecting about the matter. "I could create a secret identity! Wear a wig or something..."

"It's not that simple Adrien..." This is what too many of those anime he watched as a kid does to your mind… The woman thinks to herself. "This is the real world. Miraculouses aside… You just putting on a wig isn't going to fool anyone, at least not for any amount of time. What if you get stopped by the police and they ask for your papers or ask you where you live or who your parents are? What are you going to do then? Hm? What would you even do if someone asked you your name? If you hesitate, even just the time it takes you to make one up, it's suspicious."

To her despair, he doesn't back down. A shadow casts itself upon his face. His hands are balled into fists. He won't hit her. She knows that much but he will continue to argue. A part of her does feel some sympathy. It must be maddening to be locked up in here. She hasn't been out the door much either, only going on the occasional very brief mission to pick up some supplies. Ironically however that's the price of his freedom.

He's not taking it well. She hadn't expected him to. A little over a year ago, things would have been different. He would have been younger, more docile and easier to handle but he's tasted freedom since then. Just a little bit but enough for him to get greedy for it. She should have realized he wouldn't take well to being told to stay confined to four walls.

Anger distorts the boy's features for a moment. Not hatred just frustration, pent up irritation made all the worse by the heat.

"So I'm a prisoner here?! Again?! Maybe I should just walk out the door-"

She senses danger, jumping to her feet in a mere instant. Adrien's heading towards the door. Ready to step outside, driven by a rush of blood to the head. This was exactly the sort of nonsense she'd feared might flare up.

She moves quickly, positioning herself firmly between the door and the teenager. Adrien takes a step back, surprised by her actions. Maybe not so much the fact that she's going to try and stop him from leaving as the way that she looked at him. The woman straightens herself, taking advantage of every extra centimetre that she has on the teenager. She looks down on him. The teen shrinks down slightly, his momentary temerity dying away. Nathalie's too tired to deal with such things right now. Her patience has ran out at about the same time that Adrien's has.

"Okay Adrien..." Her eyes narrow, deadly serious. "You want to go out there? It's going to take hard work and sacrifices. More than you've ever made in your life before. You'll have to give up everything, your name, your identity, your past… You'll need new ones. You almost ran away because you were tired of having to wear a mask. That's what you'll have to do 24/7. You can't be Adrien Agreste any more. If you want a 'normal-ish' life, you're going to have to become someone else."

"Just the same as you..." He clarifies, seeing her confusion. "You can't stay like this either, can you?"

There's a bit of intelligence and perception in Adrien which gives her some hope. A silence settles between them. It speaks of reflection and a knowledge that what comes now is going to define their future one way or another. In all likelihood, it will be the determining factor in whether or not this plan with succeed or fail.

The weight in palpable. Nathalie doesn't look away or blink. She simply stares at the teen. She makes sure that he doesn't take this lightly. She's indulged him with one outburst but this is a serious matter and she won't accept any answers presented to her unless they have been properly thought through. She doesn't press for his response. Neither of them have any other prior engagements, that much is for sure. Finally, his gaze returns to rest upon her. She knows what his answer is going to be before he's even given it:

"I didn't escape one prison to get stuck in another."

She nods once. His answer is sufficient.

Nathalie spends a few moments in silence. Already she's trying to figure out everything that will need to be done. She's already put some thought into it. Adrien was right. She knew that there was only so long that she would be able to live like this before someone started asking questions. If nothing else, their funds weren't going to last much longer and she was going to find some source of income if they weren't going to turn to robbing banks or going through the dumpsters for their next meal. She would need a new identity to get a job. The boy is an added complication but one which she can work around.

Eventually she takes a few steps away, moving steadily as she reflects upon the matter:

"You will do as I say. No questioning, no debating. It's going to be long, hard work." She doesn't lie, spelling things out for him. "I'm going to be the judge of when you're ready. Until then, nothing changes! You stay away from windows and don't go outside as anyone other than Cat Noir!"

She offers him her hand. He frowns, a little bit surprised before catching on. He shakes it, concluding a pact between the two of them. Nathalie lets out a sigh. At least this will sort of the paperwork withdrawal that she's been going through. It's going to be hours and hours of work. That much was for sure. It's a colossal task which she doesn't even want to begin to get her head around. Nathalie backs away from the door, moving steadily. The danger as she sees it has passed.

Adrien watches her carefully. He seems to hesitate for a few seconds before asking timidly:

"When do we start?"

"First thing tomorrow..." Nathalie lets out a heavy sigh. "For tonight, not another word about it."

Adrien nods slowly. Perhaps he believes he's won some manner of victory and maybe he has. Nathalie remains quiet as she contemplates the city from the window.

There are over two million people out there. Surely, Paris has about enough room for two more?

_**/**_

_**Thanks again for all the reviews.**_


	5. Names

It's two days later when a sleepy Adrien is no longer able to continue to ignore Nathalie. He'd been hoping to get another few minutes of sleep but it's proving difficult to ignore the woman's writing. Something as seemingly innocuous as the scratching of a pen on paper can be amazingly distracting. Especially when he wants to know just what she's so busily scribbling away.

He sits up, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. What time is it? Nathalie is typically an early riser. He's not too surprised to find that it's not even eight o'clock yet. She's already up, washed and is on her second mug of coffee. She turns her head to check on him and he manages to give her a somewhat tired smile. Somehow although he's been listening to her scribble away for quite some time now, he's still not fully awake. He sits up wishing the woman a "good morning" which she returns.

He slips off of the couch somewhat clumsily making his way over to the kitchen area and grabbing himself a bowl of cereal. He was rather hoping that Nathalie would take the opportunity to explain just what it was that she was doing. She definitely seems to be rather immersed in it. There's little doubt in the teen's mind that it's linked to her disappearance yesterday. She'd been out for most of the evening. Long enough for him to worry. He'd been perilously close to going looking for her when she'd finally come through the door, giving a brief excuse about how things had been a little bit more complicated than she'd anticipated but not explaining herself any further.

Finally, curiosity gets the better of caution and he asks:

"What are you doing?"

"Paperwork." Comes the simple reply. "Specifically yours."

"Meaning?" He raises an eyebrow intrigued.

"A fake ID. Adrien Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur need to disappear for a while." She turns the papers so that he can see them. "The first place to start is by working out who's going to replace them."

It's not something that Adrien knows anything about. The papers look pretty official as far as he can tell. His gaze skims over them quickly. They're forms. He quickly picks up on the title of the one that she's currently filling in: "Declaration de naissance". Whilst Nathalie might have neglected to keep him up to date on what exactly she's currently doing, he's able to figure it out quickly enough. Plagg floats somewhere nearby, contemplating the whole thing with half-interest. This isn't his idea of fun…

A quick glance confirms his initial fear. There's a pile of papers at least a foot high sitting nearby. They haven't even been touched yet. They could be here for quite some time yet.

"My birth certificate?"

"We've got to start somewhere." The woman informs him with a shrug. "Congratulations Adrien, you get a choice not many kids your age have. What do you want to be called?"

The prospect of being able to chose his own name excites him. Nathalie only stipulates a few rules: not "Adrien" or any form of derivative, none of his family members or friends and nothing absurd. There are literally millions of names for him to chose from.

He draws a blank.

He's able to say for sure what he doesn't want to be called. He's not a "Jean-something" or a "Marcel", that much he's sure of. It's not a question that he'd ever asked himself. Adrien had always been _his_ name. He'd never questioned it, much less wanted it changed. If anything, he quite likes it. He spends a good few moments mulling the question over before eventually shrugging his shoulders and requesting that Nathalie picks him one. The woman stiffens slightly, as if the prospect had never occurred to her. In truth, effectively naming the boy makes her a little uncomfortable. Still, she does her best to oblige.

Nathalie draws a blank.

So they end up throwing names around randomly. In the space of five minutes, he's quite sure that half the calender ends up getting called out. Nathalie only seems to know more traditional names: Thomas, Jean, Henri, Pierre… After some inquiries, she reluctantly informs him that was the sort of environment that she was raised in. None of them particularly take his fancy. A part of the teen thinks its silly, it's not as if it's his _real name_. That's still going to be Adrien Agreste. What does he care what people call him? Somehow though, it's still personal enough for him to take a deeper form of interest. He knows what he doesn't want to be called – even if it's getting increasingly exasperating – but nothing that he would like to be known as comes to mind.

Plagg of course lives up to his own name, making himself something of a nuisance by contributing only nonsense to the conversation. He throws about names he knows that will irritate either Adrien or Nathalie or ideally both and seems to get something of a kick out of their growing frustration.

"Bob?" Hardly a French name but one which is still known in the country for many of the wrong reasons.

"I can't see anyone making fun of that name." Adrien rests his head on his hand, having mostly given up.

"Dylan?" There's a slight tease behind the kwami's green eyes.

"Any objections?" Nathalie questions quickly, perking up abruptly.

"Nope." The teen shakes his head.

"Done."

The ink is added to the paper. That's the name done. Plagg looks for a moment as if he's aware that he's missed a trick but can't quite figure out just what it was. Then, a second later, he shrugs and goes back to watching cat videos on the laptop (the least amount of input from him the better as far as Nathalie's concerned). Adrien tries to multiply the amount of areas still to be filled out on this one bit of paper by the time it took them to come up with just a name and then by the amount of papers still to even looked at. He comes to the conclusion that they are going to be here a long time.

"You just got named by a floating black cat kwami with a cheese fetish..." Nathalie shakes her head with disbelief.

She's surprisingly lenient with allowing him to chose the rest of the details surrounding his birth. He gets to pick his birthday. Something he does rather randomly but ensures that he's none-the-less a couple of months older than he actually is. She either doesn't notice or doesn't care. He can't chose where he was born. They come from the south; Nathalie informs him but promises to tell him more later, adding somewhat ominously that a lot of work is going to be required from his part.

He peers over curiously when it comes to details relating to his parents. There aren't a million solutions. Dylan Lebrun as he's to be called needs someone to look after him.

"Are you going to be my mom?"

Nathalie pauses, her mouth open with the simplest explanation poised to be given. Something causes her to hesitate however. She raises her eyes from the paperwork to look at the teen. He seems a little uncertain himself. Both are acutely aware that this is something of a touchy subject for the both of them.

It's a strange situation they've managed to get themselves into. There's no denying that.

After a few seconds, Nathalie decides the best approach is the professional one. She tries her best not to make a big deal of the matter. It's all just paperwork after all. Blood is a lot stronger than all of that. She answers as a result with as much of a cool detachment as she can muster. Still, it doesn't come out quite as confident and to the point as maybe she would have liked. It's a little bit too much like she's trying to justify the statement.

"Just on paper. It will be simpler. People won't ask so many questions."

She's uncomfortable, they both are.

It's an act. They decide to leave it at that and not to give the matter any more thought.

He doesn't have a father. Nathalie doesn't want to put any name or details down. He'll be a one night stand, a nameless entity. It will save any psychologists worrying about "Dylan"'s mental state if he was an orphan. She also can't be bothered explaining just why the boy's father is absent, even if it was just away on business. It would add considerably to the paperwork if nothing else. So officially he just has a mother… The thought is a strange one for the teen and something which is going to take some getting used to.

She's a mother without a name however.

Nathalie refuses point blank to allow Plagg to think up another for her, despite his insistence. Instead, she wrestles the computer away from the kwami and resolves to use an online random name generator to find hers whilst Adrien goes for his shower. The sound of an exasperated sigh however causes him to look in to see the woman with her head in her hands and his kwami almost doubled over with laughter:

"Hey? What did you get?" He asks, fearing the worst.

"Gabrielle..." Comes the reply.

Hopefully the process will speed up soon because at this rate, he'll be a legal adult before the paperwork is done.

**_/_**

**_Thanks again for the reviews. In answer to your question Rocksunner, Camembert comes in several different types. The premium stuff which is what I guess Adrien buys him is very expensive but a lot of it's pretty cheap._**


	6. Words

**_Thanks for the review!_**

**_/_**

Nathalie dedicates most of her time to the paperwork. It's not like she has much else to do. It's tedious, she informs him and he believes her.

Adrien or Dylan – he's still trying to get his head around that one – is not being allowed to sit idle and wait for things to happen. He's been given work and lots of it. For the past few days, he's been buried under paperwork of his own. It's documentation, research the likes of which he's never tackled before. He's learning another person's life. Where they come from, the life that they used to live… He's reading a work in progress as Nathalie continues to write it constantly. From time to time, he's allowed to give some input: his hobbies for instance or some of the events in his past, little adventures and the names of his former friends as well as their interests. They're creating a world.

"It's the details." Nathalie tells him when he asks why they're going to so much trouble. "People will ask you where you came from, what you like to do, to eat… That's why this has to be airtight."

Adrien agrees of course. He's still got one eye on the outside world. Nathalie's guarding the door and she won't let him pass until he's proved that he's good enough. That was their bargain and he's going to uphold it.

The past two days, he's been studying maps. He comes from a small village called "Aurel", down south in Provence apparently and Nathalie's having him learn everything there is to know about the place, from the number of its inhabitants, to the name local hills and forests and where he would have to go to school and the nearest swimming pool. He's making an effort to memorize it all. it's the least he can do given the time, effort and expense (she hasn't gone into too much detail given how shady a lot of this is but he's grasped that it's costing them a small fortune). They don't have a choice. One wrong word, one single mistake and they're done for. So he throws himself into it.

That was up until this point. He's a mixture of confused and startled by what she's just asked him to do. As a result, he simply sits there, staring at her with eyes wide and his mouth hanging open slightly.

"I told you it was going to be hard work."

"You want me… To learn a new accent?" He frowned looking at the videos she had signalled out for him to watch. "_This_ accent?"

"You can't sound like Adrien Agreste." A statement he's been expecting from her. "People are used to your voice on television and that film you so kindly dubbed."

"Yes but…" His voice trails off as he wonders how best to phrase things. "We'll sound like hicks from the sticks."

"The more provincial the better."

He doesn't argue the point much. There's nothing to argue. Nathalie's the one with the power here and in his heart of heart's he knows that she's right. He can't afford to cling onto anything to do with his former life. Already, she's started scolding him for fiddling with his ring. He can develop another nervous tick but that one has to go. It's one of the things that clued his father in to his identity. It only follows that the way he spoke would have to change as well.

The teen tries to tell himself that it's only temporary. He'll be Dylan for a little while and then be back to being Adrien…

The accent she wants him to learn makes sense. It's a southern one but… _Whoa_. The way that they spoke is unusual, at least for him. It a sing-songy tone. With accents quite unlike the ones that he – someone who had scarcely ever set a foot outside of Paris – has heard. He knows their reputation. A part of him, couldn't help but think about what his father, a man so prim and proper, would have said about this. He'd have called it folly and demanded that they regain some sense of self-respect and pride. In an odd way, that makes the man's son smile. He struggles to try to get his head around some of the expressions though…

"Nathalie, can I use some of these?"

"What do you mean?" She looks up from their 'medical records'.

"Well. They're quite vulgar, some of them." He must seem impossibly innocent. "Like swearing."

"Then don't use them if it bothers you." Nathalie's response and solution are quite simple. "I know that your father had a strict no bad language rule but it's something you might want to reconsider. Most kids your age, they swear a lot, so I wouldn't be too bothered about it."

"You don't mind?"

"So long as it's not directed at me."

She shrugs and gets back to work. This is impossibly counter-intuitive for Adrien. All of his life, he's been told not to use profanities or anything resembling them. He's meant to speak 'properly' no slang or other deformities of the language are meant to come out of his mouth. It was just another way in which he had been supposed to be a model boy, irreproachable in every sense of the word. Now, one of the people who had been so instrumental in that part of his upbringing was effectively telling him to throw it all out of the window. A part of him finds it liberating, another confusing. After all this time spent not swearing, the idea of it seems somewhat revolting.

As he's pondering the matter in silence, Nathalie seems to stir as if something has only just now occurred to her. She glances up at him a couple of times, visibly hesitating before eventually speaking:

"There are some terms for certain types of women though… I know you wouldn't but I'd better not hear you use them."

"Of course."

She nods once, satisfied that he'll keep his word.

Plagg seems to find the whole situation hilarious. He would. It doesn't concern him. He spends his days hiding at any rate. Were it not for Ladybug, then Adrien's pretty sure that the kwami would be pushing them to leave this dump and try their luck somewhere else. Already, they've been close to snapping once or twice due to the incessant complaints about the quality of the new Camembert he's being supplied with. The list of its faults seems to be interminable with something new being added to the list every time.

"Get a job..." Was the last exasperated grumble which Nathalie had dained to give the kwami. "Then you can maybe afford the premium stuff."

There's not much love-loss between Nathalie and Plagg. Ideally, Adrien would like to keep the two away from each other. The kwami seems to be going out of his way to try and irritate the woman. As luck would have it, she's fairly level-headed and seems to be largely impervious to most of the creature's attempts to get under her skin. Still, he doesn't want to push things too far. He gets the feeling that if she is, she could be decidedly terrible.

After all, they can't afford to bite the hand that feeds them.

That evening, Nathalie goes over what he's meant to have learned with him, ensuring that he's keeping up and not spending his time simply staring at the screen blankly. She asks him questions, gets him to try and practice his accent. He does his best. It's the first day, she's not expecting miracles, she assures him. Still, he's eager to prove that he's not been sitting around wasting his time.

"_Maintenant_." He tries his best.

"_Maintenant_." She corrects him to the best of her ability, trying to insist upon some of the inflections. "_An..._"

"_Maintenant._"

She nods. Apparently it's close-enough. The trick will be to see if he can replicate it later and in a proper sentence.

Nathalie serves dinner. With a grand total of two hotplates, there's only so much that they can do. The woman's not the world's best, or rather most ambitious cook in the world which is already far more than Adrien can say about himself. So tonight, it's omelette. He doesn't complain, more than happy to dig in. They don't chat much. The woman's not the easiest to associate with. If ever he gets a little too curious, she gives him a cool look, instantly putting some metaphorical distance between the two of them. Her way of reminding him what his place is.

Business however it is always possible to talk about. He has plenty of questions to ask and those the woman is more than happy to explain things to him, even debate if he's doesn't entirely disagree. Ultimately, she gets the last say however.

The matter is a little bit prickly, so he approaches things carefully:

"So I'm meant to speak like this outside? Same as you?" Nathalie nods once.

"You have a question." She guesses correctly.

"Yeah… Um, what do I call you? Delphine? Mère? Maman? _Man_?"

"You've been learning the terminology, good." She looks back up at him, aware that this is a sensitive subject. "Pick something to fit with Dylan's character. It doesn't _mean_ anything. I want you to start getting into character though because if we call each other one thing in here and another outside, trust me, we'll slip-up. Best we start now."

"Okay. _Man_..."

Plagg snorts at the statement, earning something of a glare from his partner. Nathalie doesn't even bother acknowledging the kwami, occupying herself by finishing her omelette. Adrien watches her for a few seconds. He spent enough time being tutored by the woman to know better than to except congratulations every time he gets something right. She's the type to pick-up on mistakes and only reward the greatest of successes.

Like it or not however, she's the one with the key to the outside world and she's not about to give it up until he proves that he has what it takes to become another person.


	7. Reality

**_Thanks again for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

An akuma attack!

News travels fast and Nathalie's the one to give it to him. They're quite far away from the city here. The Eiffel Tower is only a vague silhouette in the distance but Adrien's pretty sure he can make out some manner of pink explosions out there.

Finally, a chance to get out there and see some action. It's been the best part of two weeks and he's desperate for a bit of an adrenaline rush and a chance to blow off some steam. Not to mention someone else to interact with asides his father's former assistant. As soon as he gets the news, he jumps to his feet already savouring what is about to come. Nathalie seems to be one step ahead of him, apprehending his enthusiasm and anticipating it before it causes him to rush off. She gives him a sweatshirt. It's still horribly hot outside but he'll likely need it to sneak back inside of the building undetected.

He slips it on back to front as he transforms and makes a B-line for the open window. Nathalie's cries about remembering to ensure he isn't followed back follow him as he leaves.

Cat Noir is free. That's what it feels like. The wind in his face, the thrill of the prospect of being able to finally stretch his muscles and of course Ladybug will be waiting for him. He can't get to the centre quite fast enough. Even at the mansion, he could usually count on reaching the source of the trouble within 5-10 minutes. On the outskirts of the city, it could easily take him double that. So he runs as fast as he can, ignoring his muscles which are intent to remind him that for days now he's been sitting down and reading as opposed to being out on patrol, fencing or even just going for walks.

He's excited. Too excited…

It seems to take an unbearable amount of time for him to finally get to the battle scene. It's not the first time either of them have been held up but it certainly doesn't help his nerves. Some part of him automatically tends to assume the worst. He shouldn't. Ladybug is more than capable of looking after herself. He knows that. Still, he can't help but worry.

When he finally reaches her, she playfully scolds him for taking his time. Apparently, the akuma is comparatively mild. Cat Noir laughs. At this point in the game, he's done questioning just where these guys get both their names and powers from. They seem so surreal. That's to say nothing about their outfits. He doesn't quite know how Hawk Moth's power works, if he chooses what these guys look like or if it's some part of their own subconscious but if a world renowned fashion designer like his father-

His father…

It's his father on the other side of whatever poor soul has been akumatized. He's not just the one responsible for all of this but he can also see through the eyes of those he's corrupted. Somewhere, likely in that secret lair that Nathalie mentioned, Gabriel Agreste will be both watching and orchestrating all of this. He'll be watching. He'll see his son, granted behind a mask but he'll see him…

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks, as does the impact.

The next thing he knows, he's been sent flying backwards head first. He manages to catch himself for the most part but his face still takes quite the blow from the asphalt. He lies there dazed for a little while, unable to pull himself together.

He would have been in deep trouble had it not been for Ladybug. The hero swoops down and sweeps him off his feet, carrying him to safety. She scolds him for being careless after worriedly checking to make sure that he's alright – he is and he isn't. Physically, it's not much to worry about (a bit of a cut lip and a grazed cheek) but now that he finds himself looking upon their foe, all he can hear and see is his father. The man will be looking back, betrayed by his own son. He knows he shouldn't feel anything for his parent but some part of him still regrets what has to be done, causes him to hesitate, to move more slowly than he otherwise would have.

_His head wasn't in the game_. Ladybug puts things rather adequately after the akuma is vanquished. She's worried about him. His half-baked assurances that he simply had a lot on his mind – as if that wasn't painfully obvious – don't quite seem to be enough for her. She pries a little which is unusual for her, especially given that by this point both their countdowns are running out. He deflects her concerns, summoning all of his usual carefree charm to try and give the image of the confident Cat Noir she's more accustomed to. She doesn't believe him and he doesn't labour the point. He can't tell her. Not yet… He wants to. It would likely put an end to all this madness but he simply can't.

His father might come around yet. He reasons.

She's always there for him if he ever wants to talk. It's the last thing that she says to him before vanishing off into the night. He only watches for a few seconds before running off himself. He takes something of an odd route home, glancing over his shoulder as he goes to ensure that no one is following him. There's nobody there, he realizes after a fair bit of running around. Apparently his father isn't about to try finding out just where he's taken to hiding.

It must be late by the time that he makes it to the foot of the building or rather a tree nearby. Adrien's eyes dart around, ensuring that nobody else is around before changing back.

The side-effects of his little misadventure hit him suddenly. There's always something of a high which goes with being transformed. Likely the same thing that gives them greater strength and resilience also grants them something of a residence to pain, at the very least it doesn't register quite as much. As soon as Cat Noir vanishes and Adrien returns however, he's reminded that he just skidded along the asphalt with his face. The pain is unpleasant but not insurmountable. With a shaky sigh, he pulls his hood up. It's not ideal but it should conceal some of his features, especially his golden hair.

He slips into the building silently. Climbing the stairs is a difficult task with an aching body but it's the events of the day which end up slowing him the most. He imagines his father, raging at yet another failure. Did he feel the same pain when they fought which had threatened to tear Adrien apart? Or was he now nothing more than an irritating obstacle? The thought causes him to stop, half way up. All of a sudden, the stairs seem to be stretching out forever. He falls. Tears fall down his cheeks as everything catches up with up with him in one go. He wants to go home… He wants things to go back to the way that they were. If it were possible, he would forget about just who lay behind Hawk Moth's mask and return to that blissful innocence which now seems to be impossibly far away.

Nathalie greets him when he returns. Well that's not quite the right term for describing the way that she waits for him. She's there but that's about it. There's a certain sternness about the woman as she stands there. Her eyes dart quickly over him, picking up quickly on his injuries. He doesn't hide them. The tears were wiped away carefully before coming in. She doesn't need his problems dumped on her shoulders. No doubt she's already acutely aware of them.

She says nothing, gesturing for him to sit down on the couch. He does so without question. They don't have a freezer to make any ice. So a bottle of cold water from the fridge has to suffice as she carefully presses it against some of the slightly more tender and sensitive parts of his face. There's not much tenderness in the action, simply a realization that he's going to be in some pain and that they need to try and do something about it. He's given a wet cloth to carefully dab away the blood from his cut lip. There's no mirror outside of the bathroom but he's willing to bet that he looks like he just had a rough encounter on the side of the road.

Nathalie's not the most nurturing of people. He gets the distinct impression that she's angry with him. A brief glance to the coffee table confirms that she was following the news. She'll have seen it all. Not his proudest moment. The teen shrinks away, unwilling to even look at the woman. For once, he understands just what the source of her coldness is. She bandages him up, makes sure that the cuts and scrapes are cleaned but otherwise shows no more care towards him.

It's his fault, he messed up.

They don't exchange a word. Nathalie is angry and when she's like that, she simply closes up. The signs are there though: pursed lips, cold eyes – well, colder… Adrien doesn't even look at her over dinner. Instead, he keeps his gaze focused exclusively on his plate. If it were possible to simply vanish, then he would do so. The silence is difficult to bear. In such a small space, there's not enough room for either of them to really escape the other. Instead, there's just the knowledge that he's going to have to face his father (or more accurately one of his puppets) again. Maybe it will be tomorrow, maybe not for a few weeks… But it will happen.

Nathalie does the dishes. She's taught him how to do it and periodically insists that he does. She's not his maid after all but tonight, as soon as he's finished, she washes them. Adrien hesitates to volunteer. A quick glare convinces him to do otherwise.

Instead, he retires early. Making his bed on the couch in the hope that he'll find some sleep. Closing her eyes, he tries to drift off and hopes that tomorrow things will be better. The crickets outside are noisy but fail to lull him to sleep. The events of the day plague him. He makes an effort to lie still, if only because he's not alone. For reasons known only to herself, Nathalie doesn't go to bed. She's standing by the window, looking out over the city in silence. From time to time, she glances over her shoulder to check on him and he pretends to be resting, no need to trouble her.

He doubts that she's fooled.

His legs dangle over the side of the couch and he breathes deeply but it's something he's learned to live with. Despite his best efforts to find sleep, he finds himself peeking occasionally towards the woman. The lights might be out but he can still make out her features in the moonlight. She rubs her right arm. It's too warm for her to be chilly. No, that's a nervous tick, the first that he's ever witnessed from her. Usually, she's made of marble but there's no doubting just how troubled she looks standing there. She looks exhausted.

Time passes, with only the song of crickets to disturb from the silence. This must be the quietest night he's known here. Usually there's either a party on one of the floors, people shouting outside or some other form of commotion but tonight… Nothing… Just the crickets.

"Why are you doing this Nathalie?"

She doesn't react, refuses to tear her attention off of the city in the distance. Adrien doesn't really expect an answer but it's a question he felt compelled to ask. Why give up so much for so little?

When the woman doesn't respond, he lets out a soft sigh, patting Plagg as he sleeps on the teen's chest. She shifts some time later, tiredness apparently getting the better of her. She doesn't wish him a "goodnight". He closes his eyes, trying once more to find sleep. She pauses for a moment, in the doorway to her bedroom, giving the teen one last glance.

"We have to sort out your image."

A statement which causes him to tilt his head back curiously, looking at her upside down. She's gone a second later. Nathalie buries herself in work to escape their reality. Closing his eyes, Adrien resolves to do the same.

Tomorrow will be another day… It will be another day… He tells himself as he drifts off.


	8. Strangers

**_Thanks for the review!_**

**_/_**

Over the course of the next few days, Adrien throws himself into his work. He gives it 110%, making quick progress. It's not quite like learning another language. Most of the words are the same, it's still French and the few expressions he has to try and get his hard around are hardly complicated. What's a little more difficult is forgetting or rather putting to one side everything that he's been taught. So much of this seems counter-intuitive to him, that's what makes it difficult. He knows that a good part of the French population speaks like this, France's second biggest city Marseille is down that part of the country, still it sounds strange to him.

He makes the effort to speak it, well, try as much as possible. Following Nathalie's advice/request that they practice inside the house. He sees the wisdom. The outside world is not a place for experimentation. One slip-up might cause disaster. Granted, his current caregiver/partner in crime is a very clever woman but he can't help but wonder how she's been able to sneak out of the house so frequently without being noticed.

The teen takes a momentary break from his studies to look towards the bathroom where Nathalie had disappeared into some time ago. She hadn't bothered to inform him just what she was going to do and presuming that she simply needed the toilet, he hadn't bothered asking. That was some time ago. Long enough for him to have become a little bit concerned. He's toying with the idea of knocking to make sure that everything was alright but weary of being given short shrift. Just as he hesitates, there was a click from the lock and the woman emerges. Her hair is wet. Perhaps the midday heat had proved too much and she had simply chosen to have a cool shower to escape it.

It takes a few seconds to spot what's different:

"Oh! You lost yourrr..."

He raises his hand, running it through his hair to imitate where the red in her hair usually was. He'd use the correct term for it, if he could think of it; a stripe? The woman simply nods once. She looks strange like this with her hair down and without the distinctive little streak of colour. Over the course of a couple of weeks, he still from time to time expects to see her walking around in that expensive suit and heels as opposed to the far more mundane clothes she currently wears. Unless she's planning to dye it back in later, he's willing to guess that this is to do with going unnoticed.

She sits down in the armchair, earning his full and undivided attention. If she simply sits, then it means that she has some paperwork to tackle. On the other hand, if she sits and looks at him then it's time for planning. It's one of the many little things that he's picked up on over the course of the past few days.

"Wake that kwami of yours. We might actually need what little insight he has."

"Plagg, wake up..." He gentle shakes the sleeping avatar of destruction.

"What?" He gets given an angry glare by the creature. "Can't a kwami get any sleep around here?"

"We have an issue. All this effort with new identities and accents will be pointless if Ad-" She pauses, clearing her throat for an instant. "Dylan can't go outside because people will recognize him."

"Duh! One of the drawbacks of being famous."

For a moment, Adrien wonders if Nathalie might be about to try and swat the kwami. Her face clouds over dangerously and she gives the creature a cold glare. Plagg doesn't seem to be all that phased. He just sits there, visibly irked at having been woken up for what he must see as being unimportant restating of obvious facts. The teen is close to interjecting, reasoning with his partner as he thinks he knows just what the woman was getting at. She beats him to it however cutting in sharply:

"We need to find a way of getting you out of the house without people realizing it's you."

"Where would we start with that?" The teen enquires a mixture of curious and eager.

"It might not have to be too drastic." She turns to him, her eyes darting over his body as if to remind herself of his features. "A hair cut and dye might do it."

"Dye my hair?!" For some reason, the idea appals him more than he had assumed it would.

"Unfortunately Adrien Agreste is famed for his golden hair. So yes, unless you simply want people to think that you went to the hairdressers, it's going to have to be dyed."

It's a thought which should have occurred to him but hadn't. He's somewhat attached to his hair (in more than just the literal sense). He has very fond memories of his mother running her hands through it, gently rubbing his head and teasing him about the unruly mop. Nathalie's right of course. If he even tries going outside like this, someone's going to recognize him and then they'll be in all sorts of trouble.

The woman wouldn't be seeking out his permission for such things, she knows that she essentially already has it given that they have no other choice currently than to do whatever it takes to stay under the radar. She most definitely wouldn't have or want to go through Plagg. Things become somewhat clearer a few seconds later:

"I'm guessing this would affect his transformation into Cat Noir."

"Not necessarily..."

"What does it matterrr anyhow?" Adrien questions, somewhat off-put by the discussion. "Fatherrr knows who I am."

"You? Yes but remember we're trying to keep your new identity a secret from him." Nathalie remains calm and to the point. "If he sees Cat Noir change- if Paris sees Cat Noir change then people will ask questions. Questions which could easily end up leading them back to us."

"So all this effort, it's forrr nothing?!" Anger and frustration build up inside of him in a flash.

"Temper..." She warns eyeing him cautiously. "-and maybe not. You said "not necessarily"?"

All eyes turn to Plagg. The kwami sits on the table. He actually looks pensive, clearly thinking the matter through which is more than Adrien would usually give him credit for. He's taking the matter seriously, perhaps aware just how much being able to go outside means to his partner. Neither human pushes for an answer, preferring to give him an opportunity to ponder things more carefully. It's not something that either of them knows anything about. Cat Noir's hair changes but that's just styles, whether they can actually modify length and colour remains to be seen.

"In theory… Your appearance as Cat Noir reflects what you truly want inside. If you still want to be: Adrien Agreste, then you should stay as Adrien Agreste."

Hardly comforting but they agree that for the time being it's their only option. They'll have to find some manner of solution if things don't quite work out, Nathalie doesn't even rule out a wig. Adrien returns to his attempt to get a hang on the accent whilst the woman prepares another outing. She's lucky, at this point, she's not easily recognisable. Everyone's used to the formal assistant of Gabriel Agreste, seeing her like this, he's not entirely sure what to make of it. A part of him longs for the familiar, the rest of him is aware that won't be coming back any time soon. She's got her handbag and is half way out the door before she abruptly calls back to him:

"Blue or brown?"

"What?"

"Blue or brown?" She repeats without clarifying any further.

"Uh… Brrrown?" He has no idea what she's talking about but assumes that it's to do with hair colour.

Apparently it's the right answer or at least not the wrong one. She's gone a few seconds later.

It's quite a while before she returns. He's learned not to worry (although its hard not to). She never tells him what she's going to go and do unless asked and doesn't specify a time that she'll be back by. He's not to sure if it's just the fact that she's never had to account for her own personal actions to him before or if she's just wants to prevent him from worrying should something delay her. They don't have phones after all. Adrien works and tries not to think about it. Nathalie is street-smart and knows what she's doing. She'll be fine…

Sure enough, she walks through the door calmly about an hour and a half later. Time for a makeover…

Adrien's used to them. He's been modelling for years now. A large chunk of that has been spent being worked on by stylists, hairdressers, make-up artists… He's been through them all. Never Nathalie though. He knows how things work however but much of the more technical side is lost on him. Things like the term "colour locker" mean precious little for instance. He's somewhat nervous right now however partly because there's still that nagging voice at the back of his mind which doesn't want his hair to be touched. As such, he does something that he rarely does and fidgets slightly as he sees the scissors coming closer to his locks.

"_Man_, don't take this the wrong way but do you know what you'rrre doing?"

"I'm not a hairdresser but when I was a student, I didn't have much choice but to do my own hair and I've watched you have yours done enough." She answers him honestly. "You're lucky I'm not using a bowl for this."

"A bowl?"

"It's what they used to do in the olden days." She informs him. "Use a bowl… Now hold still!"

He closes his eyes and obliges.

_Snip. _

The first of the golden hair falls. Despite Nathalie's request, he does shudder slightly, feeling as if he just lost something. The teen closes his eyes. She let him choose a rough style to aim for. What counts is getting it cut so that he doesn't simply look like Adrien Agreste with his hair dyed. If necessary – and she admits it likely will be – they can go to a hairdresser's to get it tidied up. He's still not happy, feeling the locks coming down around the newspapers he's currently sitting on. To try and take his mind off things, he attempts a difficult task: to start up a conversation with the woman. It's made all the more difficult by the fact that he's curious about something that she just said:

"Why didn't you have any choice but to cut yourrr own hairrr when you werrre a student?"

"Because like most students, I was broke. I couldn't afford 250 francs for a haircut." She frowns slightly before adding. "You're overdoing the _"r"_. It's rolled not growled!"

He returns to silence.

In total, they must have spent over two hours both cutting his hair and then dyeing it. He waits patiently, practising his accent to the best of his ability. He's at the stage where it's only going to get better through practice as opposed to just watching videos and reading about it. He does that for an hour or so before Nathalie suddenly seems to remember something. It's rare for her to forget something but she seems to have done so now.

She comes back with a small box for him. He frowns reading the words on the cardboard. It's not a gift. It's yet more of the disguise:

"Contact lenses?"

"Don't worry, they're not corrective." The woman watches as he opens the box cautiously. "They'll take some time to get used to."

She shows him how to put them in and gives him all the instructions about how to keep them clean and not to forget to take them out before he goes to sleep.

It's yet another complication to have to get used to. They're a bit irritating and feel strange. Letting out a soft sigh, he goes into the bathroom to see what "Dylan" looks like. Short dark hair and brown eyes; it's very different from what he's used to seeing. For a few seconds, it doesn't even quite register that he's looking at himself. With only one mirror in the house, it's probably going to come as a shock every time he catches sight of himself. He spends some time like that. Not necessarily admiring himself but simply trying to get used to it.

"My own mother wouldn't recognize me..." The teen lets out in a heavy sigh.

Probably an overstatement but his two most noticeable traits that he had from her have vanished hidden beneath dye and plastic. Her hair and her eyes, especially the latter. People always commented about how he has her eyes. Of course, they're the first thing that his father will be looking for. He'll go through everyone in Paris if that's what it takes but he'll be looking for a teen with golden hair and green eyes. Still, the loss weighs rather heavily upon him. He sneaks a lock out, it will serve as a reminder of what once was. What hopefully can be again.

Plagg next to him, does what Adrien guesses is try to cheer him up:

"Or your father! Which is what we were aiming for."

The teen puts on a brave face, emerging from the bathroom a few minutes later.

He finds Nathalie there, struggling to get used to her own corrective contacts – which if anyone asks she doesn't wear, she reminds him. After some nagging, she informs him that she'd always disliked the way that they feel. She hands him a bin bag whilst she takes one full of the bottles. He raises an eyebrow, confused.

"I could use with a hand." Although she clearly has one free.

"You mean…" He hesitates before adding hopefully. "Go outside?"

"Keep your mouth shut and we should be alright. I know it's a challenge for you but you can do it, right?"

He nods enthusiastically before taking the trash.

They head down the stairs calmly and emerge into the courtyard where the recycling and waste disposal cans are. It's not the freshest air Adrien's ever tasted, polluted by the stench of waste and the distant smell of car exhaust fumes from the ring road but it's different. The sun is setting and Nathalie lets them linger for a few moments outside. He takes a deep breath of air, for the first time in weeks, tasting something which almost resembles freedom.


	9. Stability

**_Thanks for the review!_**

**_/_**

Nathalie goes through the newspapers carefully. She has a pile of them next to her and is going through each of them methodically. Job searching hasn't gotten any easier over the past few years, that's for sure. She highlights those which she stands a chance of getting or that are feasible for her to do. Already, it's a somewhat small number. There's still online for her to check of course, that gives her a little bit of hope. She had forgotten how disheartening the whole experience can be. Especially when she's relying on a CV like the one that she has.

Adrien's growing curious again. There's something of a tell where he's concerned: he looks over constantly. Well, not quite constantly but a lot. It's clear that something's on his mind but that he doesn't want to disturb her or is worried about what sort of a reaction he'd be likely to get.

The job market seems to intrigue him. It's not something that he's had any prior experience of. His father owns the company and none of his adult entourage were ever out of work. As such, he's eager to ask a ton of questions. Outside of summer jobs, it's not something that Nathalie had had a lot of experience of either. She'd landed on her feet – or at least so she'd initially thought, before all of the madness with the miraculouses had begun – with her job with the Agrestes and it had been a long time since she'd last had to search for work, especially with a CV as poor as the one that she's been forced to produce.

It's a lie. She's far more qualified than what she's put on paper. Equally though, she doesn't have some of the experience in smaller jobs that she claims to have. It's a balancing act. She's not expecting to get a brilliant contract but as she's informed the teen they need to come up with some way of supporting themselves based on the assumption that they might be hiding here for some time. They could last another month, maybe two if they rationed themselves (not an easy task with a growing 14 year old in the house). The only solution was a very simple one: she needed a job.

If only getting one was as easy…

"What did you do before you worked for my parents?"

She's torn between finding the constant questioning invasive and irritating and somewhat endearing. It's been a very long time since anyone took any sincere interest in her life…

She tells him about a few of them: waitress, cashier, helping pick fruit… It was hard work and hardly glamorous but had paid well-enough for a student trying to pay her rent. She'd never thought that she would be looking at similar jobs over a decade later.

Phone calls are made and she is reminded just how depressing all of this is as many positions have already been filled since they were first advertised. Many are scratched out. Others talk for a while, a brief interview of sorts before politely informing her that she's not what they're looking for. The woman is patient. It's a virtue she's acquired over the course of many years. An absence of any form of celebration lets the quiet teen know that it's a failure. Still, as the conversations follow one another, his head perks up increasingly.

Nathalie knows what he's noticed but doesn't acknowledge it until the teenager's eyes are so wide it's almost comical.

"You've really got that accent down to pat."

"So would you if you spent less time staring at me and more practising." She scolds him.

"Have you hear how fast these people speak?" He asks her gesturing at the recording. "I can't talk that fast."

"Nonsense. If I can. You can."

"You can?"

Nathalie looks up at him before letting out an exasperated sigh.

He's actually going to make her do this. For a few seconds, she contemplates remaining quiet and telling him to get back to work. There's a light of curiosity behind his eyes however that lets her know it will be a major disappointment should she refuse to answer. He needs to be shown that it can be done. That's what she tells herself at least, aware that he's likely to find it either amusing or ridiculous:

"Boudiou! Peuchère, j'ai la cagne de t'enseigner tout ça ce dans ce cagnard!"

The teen almost jumps in surprise at the words in perfectly accented southern French coming out of her mouth. When she's finished. He simply stares, torn between awe and astonishment. The woman looks back at him unimpressed, as if it's the most natural thing in the world and eager for him to move on the other matters.

Adrien laughs.

It's a surprising sound in itself. One which she doesn't know how to react to, especially when she realizes just how long it's been since she last heard the boy laugh. It's something that she's missed, even if she didn't realize it. Such outbursts had been rare, even before they'd fled the mansion. There hadn't been much to laugh about back then. She allows him to giggle, even if it's at her expense. It must be something of a release for him.

"What did I just say?" The woman asks none-the-less once he's done.

"Good God! Uh… Friend? Pal?" She shrugs letting him know it's an acceptable translation. "I'm fed up of trying to teach you all of this in this heat?"

He gets a single nod and something which almost resembles a smile from the woman – a very faint smile, one which she tries her best to hide. He's making progress. Soon, she won't have to worry about what will happen if he bumps into someone and they exchange more than a handful of words. That will give him more freedom and allow her to breathe a little. Their personalities are such that for the most part, they can tolerate one another. They seldom bicker. One being assertive enough to keep the other on a tight enough leash to ensure he can't get into too much trouble and the other being docile enough to not complain about it.

Still, despite her best attempts to get back to work. She can tell that there's something else on the young man's mind. He no longer seems to be amused as confused or rather like he's just figured something out:

"You seem to know a lot about southern French." He takes a chance and pries a little.

"I should do. I used to live down there." She tells him this as if he'd asked what the weather was doing outside.

"Oh… So that's why I'm learning that accent?"

"You're learning it because it's something I can judge and we don't want people to recognise your speech patterns."

"So you spoke like-"

"Never anything quite so pronounced. My grandparents however..."

Things get personal and she closes up. He's used to that from her. She doesn't ever seem uncomfortable talking about her past but it's not something which she willingly and easily brings up. He's not sure if there's some pain there or if she just doesn't fancy bringing it up around someone who's neither related to her nor her friend.

So the teen changes tactics. Nathalie doesn't tend to mind explaining things when they're practical. There's a practical reason for him knowing why she now speaks like she was born and raised in the capital. He asks and she hesitates, only for a few seconds but it doesn't escape his attention:

"Being a provincial doesn't get you far in Paris." The woman finally answers. "We're all dung-eaters to them. Speaking "Parisien" French wasn't too difficult for me anyway given it's on all the television channels. Now, unless you want to be rummaging through bins for your next week, let me get back to work!"

He almost gets the message. Almost…

The young man is unwilling to leave things on such a note. Instead, he's daring. Nathalie is tired and it's almost six o'clock. Very few people will be answering the phone after then. Many indeed will be getting ready to go home. With luck, tomorrow would be somewhat more productive. In the meantime, there will be failure floating over their heads for the rest of the evening. She won't give up. He knows she won't… So he tries to get her to smile again. She's half way through composing a number before he takes a chance and interrupts:

"We could always become bank robbers..." Adrien suggests giving her a playful look.

"Ah yes. A fourteen year old and an astigmatic former secretary, the makings of greatness. I suppose you'd want to go live in the Bois de Vincennes and steal from the rich to give to the poor?" She puts the phone back down. "Some of this is complicated..."

"Yeah but we've got to give it a go, right?"

She nods once and he gets yet another very slight smile as a reward for his efforts.

She dials the number. A call centre in the outskirts. The hours advertised are long and promise to be tiring. Nathalie is ill-suited for such a task in many respects, the main one being that she's over-qualified for it but it promises money which they most definitely require. The conversation is longer this time. They seem to be taking some interest. The past few attempts were passed off quickly. That gives him some hope. He waits until the phone it put back down.

A third smile is given, one which he returns.

Things are getting ever-so-slightly clearer.


	10. Next steps

**_Thanks for the review:_**

**_/_**

It's been over a month and a half now.

Nathalie's new job means that she isn't around quite as much any more. The hours are long and more importantly, it's most of the day that she's gone. That leaves Adrien alone with Plagg. Whilst the kwami is better than nothing, it's still not an ideal situation but Nathalie has done something surprising.

She's allowed him to go outside. Following her first day of work, she presents him with a set of keys to the flat and tells him not to lose them. He could do with interacting with other people, more specifically kids his age. Dylan needs to find his feet if he's going to be able to fit in with the rest of society. She gives him a cellphone and tells him to call should anything come up.

His first day outside of the apartment is a strange one. He's been allowed out from time to time to stretch his legs, usually with runs to deposit the trash or bottles or lately to the bakery. The outside world seems so vast however when compared to the cramped little space that they've been sharing these past few weeks. It's a little bit overwhelming initially. So he absent-mindedly staggers around the grounds. There's quite a few facilities here: a playground for the younger children, some exercise bars which he flexes his muscles on for a while and a few basketball hoops. He's a bit lost and ends up sitting under a tree, seeking some shelter from the afternoon heat.

It's out of the question for him to go back inside. He needs this chance to breathe a little. Which is exactly what he does. He feels the grass between his fingers, tugging at it. His mind is elsewhere, thinking about the latest issue that they're faced with. It travels back to the night before:

"You're going to have to go to school."

"I know..."

"You can't go back there." Nathalie's words are understanding but firm.

"All my friends are there..." He still thinks back to them Nino, Alya, Marinette… He misses them and hates the distance which has been forced between them.

"All _Adrien's_ friends are." She reminds him of that simple fact. "You'd be running to some of the people who know you best and who are the most likely to recognise you. There are other kids, other schools…"

He hadn't argued much. He hadn't been able to think properly about the matter. You needed good arguments when trying to deal with Nathalie.

The responsible part of him knows that she's right. It would be safer for all parties if he stayed away from them. They know him and would be infinitely more likely to either recognise him or pick up on some of his mannerisms that he's not quite succeeded in doing away with yet. If they did then the chances of his cover being blown would explode. Even if they didn't, it would raise the question as to just why Adrien Agreste – who was meant to be living on the other side of the world – had decided to dye his hair, put on an accent and change identity whilst going to live in one of the slightly rougher parts of the city. That's not a conversation he's inclined to have right now.

On the other hand, he's given up so much already: his name, his appearance, his voice… He'd like to be able to keep something. For practical reasons, it's unlikely that he could ever go back to being their friend. That really would be taking chances. Still, he would like to be able to see them again and watch their antics. He misses them all dearly.

Growing listless, he reaches into his pocket and pull out an I.D. card which Nathalie had given him and contemplates it. He knows all of the details, he's been made to learn them all off by heart. As he looks back at the teenager he's become or is meant to become, he can't help but reminisce.

His time at College Françoise Dupont was a strange one. Not only was it the first place that he'd ever attended proper school as opposed to being tutored. It also happened to be the exact time that akumas had started to plague the city. It was strange how these things worked out. Perhaps it had suited his father for him to get out into the open world so that he wasn't always around the mansion and therefore liable to sooner or later stumble upon his parent's terrible secret. Again, it could all have been a happy (or unhappy (he hadn't quite decided yet)) coincidence.

His classmates were the first real friends, asides from Chloe he'd been able t make. Each of them is special in their own way. They were insanely brave given the amount of akumas that had flared up in the school. Unless he was mistaken, well over half of their class had been akumatized at this point. That or people close to them. It was strange when he thought about it. In a city the size of Paris, why were that one group of teens so frequently targetted? Had his father always had his eyes turned towards his son and his entourage. Perhaps he'd believed that if everyone around him periodically turned into a raging fashion challenged psychopath then it might have scared him into wanting to staying at home. It doesn't really matter now the teen supposes.

All those akumas… All those akumas which Cat Noir and Ladybug had somehow always been able to stop. They'd always been able to turn up more or less at the same time, exactly when they were needed. Now he was always going to be those few minutes late. Whereas most of the time it was as if his partner was right there, ready to save the day.

In a flash, something clicks. A simple realization: Cat Noir and Ladybug were always there when they were needed. They arrived usually within a few minutes of each other, more often than not practically at the same time, they were the same rough age… All those coincidences seem to form something of a sinister pattern in the mind of a young man on the run from a father who he now knows is hunting them and is willing to go to any lengths to get what he wants, that is to say their miraculouses.

Before he can ponder the matter, a basketball bounces near to him. He jumps, startled out of the world of his own thoughts. Turning around rapidly, he finds himself faced with a group of youths. Some he'd wager are a little younger than he is, others are evidently a few years older. Initially, he fears the worst. This isn't the nicest of neighbourhoods as Nathalie has warned him several times. Not everyone is going to be friendly… He's the new kid on a block, an easy target and not someone who knows if he's just fallen in with a bad crowd or not.

It's a curious scene which Nathalie/Delphine Lebrun returns home to that evening. She's exhausted from an early start, a long commute on overcrowded public transport and then having to spend 8 hours answering phone calls. She wasn't too sure what she was expecting but to find the apartment empty at such an hour wasn't one of them. She calls out after the lad but receives no response. There's no notes or anything indicating where he might have gone. There was no panic indicating that there was an akuma attack going on so Cat Noir shouldn't have been out and about. She has no way of contacting him… It takes a fair amount of self-control for her to avoid panicking. There are literally thousands of things which could explain this both good and bad.

The cries from outside draw her attention abruptly. The woman sticks her head out of the window, looking down towards the courtyard below. There, in the flickering orange lights, she can see a group of teens playing basketball. Amongst them, she spots a lad who seems familiar. After a few minutes of careful observation, she comes to the conclusion that it is indeed Adrien. He seems to have found playmates, if not friends. The woman doesn't bother to call after him. Now that she knows where he is, he can have a few minutes out there whilst she prepares dinner. She reasons that he could do with the opportunity to remember what it's like to interact with people of his own age.

To her surprise, he's home only ten minutes later. The teen unlocks the door and steps in. He's not surprised to see her, presumably he took note of the time and realized that she should have been home. Something's off however as he's surprisingly quiet. She had been expecting him to be excited, talkative, eager to know how her day was and to tell her about his new friends. It had been a challenge to get him to shut up about his first day in school. He's not very verbose and that instantly lets her know that something's wrong.

It's only later when they're eating that she finally gets something of an answer:

"Father thinks that Cat Noir and Ladybug go to the same school, doesn't he?"

"He's envisaging it as a possibility." She doesn't see any point in lying. "Given how quickly you two arrived on the scene when there was an akuma at college Françoise Dupont."

"And that's why I have to go back..."

She understands why he thinks that. He wants to protect his former friends and be there when trouble strikes. Her issue is that he'll be risking his own secret identity in terms of his classmates. They've discussed this already but he seems to have been reflecting upon the matter further and is ready to talk about it again. She tries not to get angry. If she throws her weight around, he might rebel and throw all of this work out of the window. She has to reason with him, make him see sense.

The debate last some time. He's stubborn. Nobody will be looking for Adrien Agreste at the school, not even his father. He won't be expecting the boy to go back to his original school. It's such a stupid idea that it simply won't occur to the man. He needs to be near the centre so that when there's an akuma, he can act on it as opposed to losing precious time trying to reach them or worse being unaware that there's a crisis in the first place, isolated somewhere in the outskirts. He's got all of his arguments prepared. Most of them boil down to saving Paris and she struggles to question them. She can't argue too much about some of his points but there's one major issue: they know him. His teachers will recognise his work, his friends will-

"Natha- _Man_!" Adrien sounds somewhat desperate. "Look at me! I can barely even recognize myself!"

She frowns. Asides the obvious changes which have given him darker hair and eyes and the accent he's now forced to put on, he's also filled out a bit. No longer having to model – plus her own reluctance to prepare the same absurd diet that the chef and his father had him on – have caused him to fill out somewhat. Of course, he's also growing up. That will also play a role in changing some of his physical traits. They might not see if they weren't looking…

Nathalie lets out a heavy and frustrated sigh. This is exactly the sort of situation that she didn't want to get into: one where they end up putting themselves in danger over ideals.

"Okay. On the strict condition that you minimize contact with your former friends. They're the most likely to notice! Can you do that? Can you be cold towards Nino Lahiffe, Chloe Bourgeois and Marinette Dupain-Cheng?!"

"If it means keeping them safe, then yes." The determination behind his eyes leaves little doubt. "I'll do it!"

Stern, she contemplates him for a moment.

With an exasperated sigh, the woman began planning things. They would have to be doubly careful if he was going to be socializing with people who had once known him. Now, he was going to have to try changing his handwriting. The slightest slip-up would be noticed and potentially seal their fates. With her head in her hands, she finds herself wondering how she could possibly have gotten herself into such an absurd situation as this. She glares at the teen standing there, no doubt aware that she's not best pleased:

"The things you make me do..."


	11. Second time's the charm

**_Thanks for the review!_**

**_/_**

It's with a list of things to do and not to do at least ten feet long that Dylan Lebrun turns up for his first day of school.

The first step?

_Seem confused and get lost_. Not easy when he knows the building inside out from the previous year, much of which was spent hiding from akumas or looking for some place secluded to transform. He's been given his schedule and knows where his next class is. So he walks around in what to the rest of the world must look like a haze before eventually stumbling into a janitor and asking them for directions.

He gets them and something of an odd look. It's likely his accent which is putting people off. Whilst Nathalie has assured him that it's passable, he's still afraid of opening his mouth and it being regular old Adrien which comes out as opposed to a strong southern accent. That one janitor asides, he doesn't receive any attention other than the odd semi-curious gaze. There will be a lot of new students today given that it's the first day of school. They'll all be younger though. He's not too sure how many newcomers will be present in his class. A few, he hopes, that way it will take some of the attention off of him.

The teenager steps into the classroom. There's a fair bit of noise, the teacher hasn't arrived yet. It's strange how much this place hasn't changed. Already he spots some very familiar faces. It seems in those few instants, as he looks back at his former classmates, that he has moved on and that the rest of the world has stayed just the same. It's just a silly impression really. Were he less enveloped by his own reality, then he would notice that they had changed during the summer: grown, matured a little, physically, if nothing else.

He doesn't notice though. Simply taking note of how everyone is still in exactly the same place as they had been last year. He almost instinctively heads for the empty seat next to Nino. He can imagine sitting there and chatting excitedly whilst they wait for the classes to start.

It's only when he receives an odd look from the teen – it's not hostile but definitely questioning as to just why he was approaching – that he finds himself remembering that they don't see Adrien, they see someone else. They see a stranger, not their friend and that's how it has to be. He frowns, giving him something of a stern glare before pushing on. He's going to need to sit somewhere. He makes for a free seat but again stops himself, Nathalie's words echo through her ears:

_Don't sit at the front_.

Most students prefer to sit further back. It grants them some freedom from the teacher's ever-watchful eye and increases the likelihood of the odd act of mischief going unnoticed. The front row is either for students with hearing/vision disabilities or goodie two-shoes. He is neither and therefore should find himself somewhere less conspicuous. So he ends up sitting by himself, not quite at the very back but near enough to it. Far away enough so that nobody takes any notice of him. At least not more than the passing glance.

At least his new look seems to be working.

Nobody even looks at him as he sits there minding his own business. Madame Bustier enters a few minutes later, instantly, everyone is quiet. She calls out names, ensuring that everyone is present and accounted for. Adrien Agreste isn't on the list. His seat is left empty. Curious… He forces himself not too look at it too much. Instead, he waits patiently for his name to be called. Raising his hand and answering with a simple "present" as if he's been here a thousand times before. He'd hoped that she'd skim over him and continue on with the list. Instead, the woman pauses searching for him in the class.

"You're new?" He's not too sure whether it's a question or a statement.

"Yes, madame." Dylan's not a big talker, he just decided that much.

"Want to introduce yourself to the class?"

"Not much to say." He lays the accent on good and thick just as Nathalie had instructed him. "I'm from down south. Moved up here with my mom."

He leaves it at that. Hopefully, if he plays it right, his old friends won't be all that inclined to try and recruit him into their little group. It had been one of the conditions to his coming here. He'd been forced to promise Nathalie that under no circumstances would he attempt to befriend them again. Even he can see that it would be pushing things just a little too far. If he keeps his distance he should be okay. He won't aggravate them or otherwise pick a fight but he certainly won't be overly friendly. He'll work out some sort of way of letting them know he's not too keen on being their friend without actually having to hurt them.

That's if they even try coming up to him. They might not. He hopes that their content to let him keep to himself. He'll watch over them silently but will keep them at arm's length. It's safest for all of them.

Madame Bustier seems a little surprised by his response but doesn't insist, perhaps chalking it down to nerves. There's a ton of things he has to think about: the accent, his handwriting (which is now considerably messier than it once was), keeping away from the others… He's almost as nervous sitting in class as he was his last first day. The risks aren't exactly the same however.

The others seem a bit more down that they usually would be. At least Nino, Alya, Marinette and Chloe. He supposes Adrien's absence must have had something to do with it. A part of him wants nothing more than to storm down there and reveal that it's him. It would certainly be a surprise. Instead, he forces himself to remember that he's doing all of this for them and the others. It will be easier if he keeps his distance and tries to forget about him. They knew him for a year, Chloe admittedly awhile longer. It's not a long time in the scheme of things. They'll be upset for a little while but will get over it eventually, he reasons.

There's no choice: Adrien is gone and won't be coming back any time soon.

He decides that it will be easier if he isolates himself from everyone else. After spending so much of his life alone, it shouldn't be too difficult for him. That way, they're less likely to spot the resemblances between Adrien and Dylan and they be all the safer for it. Sitting in the cafeteria, struggling with food which he's never been faced with before, he finds himself glancing out of the window towards the rest of the city. Out there somewhere is Gabriel Agreste, a powerful man with a piece of magical jewellery who's got it out for them.

Eventually, his gaze turns back towards the other students, specifically the girls. One of them could be Ladybug. His dear father was convinced of that much but… Which one? In all of his time here, he'd never once suspected any of his classmates. He found himself searching for those very distinctive-

"Hey! Mind if we sit here?" Comes a voice from right next to him.

"Looks like there's nowhere else for you to sit."

Mylene, Ivan and Kim sit down next to him. They're smiling, open and friendly. He was never all that close to them. They were classmates, sure but he'd never hung around with them all that much outside of class. He's nervous but tries not to let it show. Instead, he concentrates on eating his lunch. They do try talking to him. Asking where he comes from and what it was like. He answers in brief little statements, trying to make it clear that he's not all that interested in chatting.

They look a little forlorn but ultimately give up. He leaves a few moments later, intent on spending the rest of the day by himself. It's not easy to be faced with all of these faces which once meant so much to him. Even being alone is easier.

Later that evening, he's sitting at home, waiting patiently for Nathalie to come home. She's rarely back at any given that she has to rely on public transport and that her new boss has no qualms about asking her to work overtime. Still, as she puts it, at least the bills are getting paid. The woman comes in and carefully puts away her handbag and jacket. She never tells him how her day went unless he asks. Generally it's pretty safe bet that she didn't exactly have a thrilling time and she doesn't like to be reminded of that fact. She comes back in, eyes focused on him:

"So?"

"Well, I've officially had a first day of school twice at the same school."

An odd truth. He's not too sure how many people could boast to such a feat.

Nathalie doesn't press. She was aware that this was going to be a challenge. Whether or not he had expected it to be this difficult, she can't quite say. Adrien can be naïve at times. He's definitely down. That much is obvious by the way that he sits there on the couch, head hanging low, defeated. The realization that what once was can never be again must have hit home like a ton of bricks when faced with his old friends and being able to talk to them for fear of somehow blowing his cover. If nothing else, it must have hurt to see them enjoying themselves and to be forced to maintain a distance.

For a moment, the woman hovers nearby. Her eyes resting on the teenager but daring not to speak. There's little to say to comfort him that he doesn't already know.

"I'll make dinner." She announces in a soft voice. "You'll need your strength for tomorrow."


	12. To be of stone

**_Thanks for the review!_**

**_/_**

This is ridiculous and at some point in the future, he'll be laughing about it. That's what Adrien tells himself as the days trickle by, turning into weeks. He stands as a spectator, powerless to control his own life as everything seems to spiral out of control in the slowest and most restrained manner possible.

Cat Noir has changed, even the media has picked on that much. Nobody seems too sure why but the puns and flirting have stopped. He's an altogether different character. Much more serious, more sober. He no longer seems to take any pleasure or satisfaction in the fight or even the defeat of their enemies. It's as if he's performing a mundane task. Some even speculate that there's something of a reluctance in the way that he currently behaves. He seems to be doing this now only because it needs to be done and get no joy from it. In some ways, it's improved his efficiency but it has cost his relationship with Ladybug. It's become cold, cordial. Something in their partnership has died and it's not for "his lady's" want of trying.

Her attempts to get him to open up have been as numerous as they are valiant and fruitless. Initially, she assumed that it must have been to do with her constant refusals where his advances were concerned. She accused him of behaving immaturely accordingly. The look of surprise on her face when he assured her that it had nothing to do with the current situation was mixed true concern. So what was the matter? Had he grown tired of all of this? He'd always seemed like he lived for being Cat Noir. No, that wasn't it. Although he confesses to no longer getting the same kick out of it as he used to.

"Is it something that's going on with the boy behind the mask?" She finally asks one night, breaking their unspoken code of keeping superhero and civilian identities separate. "I'm not asking you to reveal your identity but… I don't like seeing you like this. Something's wrong. I can tell it."

Yes. Something is wrong.

Every time there's an akuma now, he knows it's not some faceless villain orchestrating it all. It's his father. With every insane ramble from a person fallen so low as to become prey to Hawk Moth, every building destroyed, every life threatened; it's his own blood who's behind it all. He's after him, Nathalie reminds the teen of that simple fact daily. At this point, whilst he'll still be searching (he's never going to stop) for Adrien, he knows his best option is to capture Cat Noir and kill two birds with one stone.

His father is without pity. To this day, his son is still not entirely sure what exactly is motivating him but he's seen the man have his puppets destroy half the city and risk countless lives simply to get the miraculous. If he's willing to potentially kill, then it stands to reason that whatever his ultimate goal is, it cannot be noble. He must be stopped. Perhaps when Hawk Moth is brought to his knees, many then they can ask him: _why?_ It's a question that Nathalie avoids, Adrien assumes that she doesn't know.

Knowing that enrages him and more than anything else, it hurts. It eats away at him whilst he's faced with an akuma and increasingly as a civilian as well when he's faced with those who have fallen victim at one point or another to his father's machinations. It's guilt, he reasons. He rages at himself for not having realized sooner and then for not being strong enough – even now – to be able to go up against the man and end all of this. The worst part of it, the thing which really gets Adrien to loathe himself is the fact that he knows, somewhere deep down inside of himself, he still loves the man doing all of this.

So as time goes on, he hides increasingly behind Dylan. Dylan is normal. Hawk Moth is nothing to him. Well nothing more than a superpowered nuisance who periodically empowers some desperate soul by giving them some ability and a questionable wardrobe choice.

Whilst Adrien resents everything to do with his father and the monsters he creates, Dylan is rather more indifferent. He seems to almost hold some of them in contempt. When an akuma interrupts them during lunch break, he's sitting in the cantine eating, he doesn't get up and panic like the other students do. Instead, he sits there for a while, ignoring the chaos around him. When Max calls for him, urging the southern teen to run, he only gets up slowly, walking in the opposite direction and giving the akuma a contemptuous look.

He's either brave, insane or insanely brave. The others chatter about his seeming indifference in the face of danger but few dare to bridge the subject with him. Dylan doesn't seem like the sociable type.

"All that effort you put into getting out into the real world and making friends, now you're putting the same amount in to isolating yourself." Nathalie tells him one evening over dinner.

"No I'm not." He dismisses the notion as foolish. "I play basketball almost every night."

"That's not what I meant… You don't have anyone close to you."

That much is true. He pushes others away. All attempts by his classmates to get him to open up have been met with failure. He's never rude or aggressive but he's monosyllabic, politely letting them know without saying it that he'd rather be left to himself. Even the most friendly and determined souls such as Rose have given up by the end of his first month. That suits him. The further away he can keep them, the less likely they are to stumble upon his secret identity. If nothing else, it makes things easier when the time comes for Cat Noir to leap into action. He no longer needs to come up with any excuses.

It's maddening, to see those he was once so close to now reduced to the roles of mere strangers. He's a stranger to them. They aren't to him. He watches silently from afar. Startled by how little the class dynamic has changed. Nino has fallen back upon Alya and Marinette whom he now spends most of his time with. The latter has grown a little quieter and more solemn but he assumes that might simply be to do with her growing more mature. For most of the others however, it's almost like Adrien Agreste never existed. They've had all summer to come to terms with the fact that he won't be there any more. Little to they know he's right behind them, watching silently.

The irony is that he is the author of this madness. Nathalie never told him to push everyone away like this. Only those who had once been so close as to be potentially liable to recognize him.

He doesn't respond to the woman's statement that night when she brings up the matter. He knows her well-enough to trust that she won't try pushing him one way or another. She's just pointing out a fact, in case he wasn't aware of it. He is of course, painfully so. Instead, he chews on the thought alongside his peas. It's quite common for them to have these little discussions. It's just a little progress report to see how both of them are doing in their new lives. The answer is that they're still here, surviving.

"You know..." Nathalie bridges the subject tentatively with him one evening after Paris had been torn up yet again. "Akuma attacks are typically considered to be a big deal, pretty terrifying really with the explosions, armies of zombies or whatever it is that particular day. Dylan should maybe be a little bit more bothered by them than he is."

Dylan shrugs. They're just a madman's pawns. There are worse things out there.


	13. Truths hidden

**_Author's note: As always, thanks for the review!_**

**_/_**

Adrien's pretty sure he has never read quite so many books in his life. They don't have a television and there's only one laptop which Nathalie frequently uses to balance their finances and scan the news to ensure that they are still under the radar. After the first few weeks, he barely even misses them any more. It's not as if he can talk to his friends over the internet or anything, not as Dylan and he doesn't want to take the risk of posing as Adrien and his father tracing the IP address.

So he reads. Books at least are cheap. A couple of euros can buy him over two weeks worth of reading. He sits or lies on the couch, depending on how lazy he's feeling and reads. He's not picky. Sometimes not even bothering to read the synopsis. He gets a library card so as to prevent the limited free space from becoming clustered with books. He reads fiction for the most part, allowing himself to slip into some distant realm where everything's just a little different. Most of the time, the hero's problems are magically solved by the end of the novel but in a few, just a few, the conclusion is a good deal more bitter.

He can't help but wonder where he would fit into all of this if ever they wrote about his life. Would he be the plucky underdog who somehow came out on top and defeated the tyrant or was he destined to be the doomed hero struggling against fate which he knows will ultimately cut him down?

Strangely, it's an interest he's developed which he seems to share with Nathalie. It's only strange insofar as he never imagined he would ever have any interests in common with the woman. She always did seem like the bookish type. She reads just the same as he does. Their evenings can be rather quiet as a result, especially compared to some of their rather more rowdy neighbours. Still, from time to time the impossible happens and the woman seems to become curious. From time to time, she asks him about what he's reading or even what he thinks about it. He answers honestly. They never enter great passionate discussions but it's better than utter silence between the two of them which could potentially last quite some time otherwise given that more often than not, it only seems to be 'business' which gets the two of them to converse.

It's late one Thursday night when Nathalie looks over to him. He's expecting to be reminded that he has school in the morning and he should be getting ready accordingly. Instead, she peers at the title of his book before asking:

"So, how's Edmond Dantès doing?"

"Carrying out his revenge."

He knew what the book was about, more or less but never before had he actually gone through its pages himself. He found himself pausing his reading however, for once intent to chat about some of it. An amusing thought had crossed his mind from the moment he'd read about the hero being betrayed by those closest to him. He can't help but mirror it against his own experiences and allow himself to put himself in the shoes of another.

"It's giving me some ideas."

"What about?" The woman raises an eyebrow curiously.

"Revenge."

She draws quiet at that. He frowns, it had been intended as something of a joky comment. Instead, it seems to have generated some consternation in his companion. It looks like he's made yet another statement which she disapproves of. Hardly unusual. Whether or not she'll actually pick him up on it remains to be seen. Sometimes, it doesn't seem to be worth her while. She seems to be taking this matter rather seriously. To him, what he'd said was rather innocuous. He's expecting a lecture about how he can't let hatred take over his life and that it's already polluting enough of his existence at it is (putting their cover in jeopardy in the process).

Instead, she makes a statement which only serves to confuse the teen:

"Your father is misguided, not evil."

"Yeah. That's why he keeps on trying to destroy the city and kill half of its inhabitants so that he can have the ultimate power..."

"If you finish that book, you'll realize that revenge and hatred only tend to make things worse."

He raises an eyebrow, contemplating arguing with the woman. It's strange what can trouble her sometimes. He's torn between trying to get to the bottom of her objection. Given what she's been forced to give up and the life that she's now living, he had imagined that she would be eager to get back at Gabriel Agreste, one way or another. Instead, it's almost a cautionary look which she gives him. Warning him that this isn't a path he wants to go down. Maybe it is though. It hurts having to live like this and if there's anything he can do which might grant him some satisfaction or at least allow his father to know just what it's been like, then right now, the teen is rather tempted to take it.

To his surprise, Nathalie closes the book on her lap. It's a sure sign that she's taking this matter very seriously indeed and intends to continue the discussion. It takes the teen by surprise. All of this from what had been intended as a rather innocent and humorous little comment. With her brow furred, she fixes her lap for a moment before tentatively raising her gaze to meet his:

"There's something you need to know… I think you're ready now." Instantly, he sits upright, snapped to attention by the apparent gravity of the situation. "I'm going to ask you to listen to what I'm going to tell you with as calm and level a head as possible, alright?"

"Why wouldn't I?" The teen raises an eyebrow, already somewhat aware of what the answer is going to be.

"You're emotional." Nathalie reminds him, it's something she's scolded him for many a time. "You know as well as I do that you're not always the most rational and clear-thinking of people… Given what I'm about to tell you though, I won't blame you for reacting violently..."

"Natha-" For a moment, he slips out of the accent before catching himself. "Man, what are you talking about?"

His worry and concern are clear. He knows that something terrible is about to happen but can't quite say what.

Nathalie glances at the teen. She should have done this sooner. It's been eating away at her for weeks now. It's never quite seemed like the right time however either she's simply been too tired or Adrien's seemed either too happy to disturb or otherwise a little too grim, she's having a bit of trouble reading him at the moment. There's no going back now and some part of her is aware that it would be cruel to allow the teen to keep on living in this ignorance. He needs to know why his father is doing what he is.

After that, if he chooses to hate the man, then that's fair but at least he'll know the full story.

He's going to be angry, the woman knows that before she even opens her mouth. Her only hope is that somehow, Adrien will be able to keep himself under control so as to avoid snapping entirely. If not, then she knows him well enough to know that things could get ugly quickly.

"Your father isn't doing this to try and rule the world or whatever you think he's trying to achieve…" She took a deep breath, preparing to take the final leap. "He's doing it for your mother."

"My mother?.."

Even in the way that he mutters the woman's title, it's clear that she still holds some kind of power over him. It's only natural for a boy to love his mother. For a few moments, Adrien goes somewhat starry eyed as he thinks back to the woman who had 'mysteriously' disappeared from his life a few years ago.

In an instant, Nathalie is reminded that this is going to be very difficult.

She forces herself to continue however. She tells the boy about the illness which had afflicted his parent and had been concealed from him. How it had sucked the life out of her in the space of a few weeks, leaving the doctors powerless and eventually her catatonic. She would have been deemed beyond help by the medical world and likely would have found herself in a grave were it not for Gabriel's seemingly endless funds and love for his wife. He'd saved her, in a fashion. She lies in a state of deep sleep, hidden deep beneath the mansion. The only thing capable of waking her? The power of the Ladybug and Cat miraculouses combined. The man's doing this out of love, not hatred or a quest for power.

The miraculous of the peacock is left out of the picture. She doesn't want to worry him further by revealing who it's present owner is.

The teen simply sits there and listens, seemingly unable to process what's being told to him. When she's finished, he remains silent. He's turned pale. Eyes wide either with horror or shock. He had assumed that his mother was dead. Nobody had ever told him one way or another but after all this time, even a hopeful fourteen year old would naturally come to the conclusion that she'd likely left this world. He lowers his head and screws his eyes shut, perhaps trying to hold back some tears or block out the world around him.

Nathalie doesn't push him.

She sits there in silence and lets him try and process all of this. If he can. She knows it's not likely to be something that he can get through his head in the space of one night. Everything he had believed or maybe wanted to believe up until this point has turned out to be a lie or at least a misconception. It's a lot easier to think that you're fighting a madman who was on a mad quest to make himself overlord of the world as opposed to a man simply desperate to bring his wife back. If nothing else, Nathalie's pretty sure that somewhere deep down inside, Adrien wants to the same thing. Her only hope is that he might be able to see just why it couldn't happen, just what the cost of such a wish would be.

A life for life. He could have her back. It's a terrible burden to put on the shoulders of one so young.

The look that he gives her eventually, eyes wet with silent tears, confirms that he hates her for it. Whether or not he'll ever forgive her, both for keeping the secret and then for telling him, she doesn't know. He needs his space but he can't leave. He doesn't have a bedroom or anywhere else to run. Not other than outside.

He can't escape. So she does it for him.

Without saying another word, Nathalie gets to her feet. She leaves her book on the tea table. There will be no more reading tonight, she'll have enough on her mind. She makes her way slowly and solemnly towards the door to her bedroom. It's only as something of an afterthought that she glances over her shoulder. The teen remains sitting there, head hanging low, mostly obscured by the darkness. There's a pang of something in her stomach. Compassion? Pity? Whatever it is, it causes her to linger there for a moment before adding in something of a whisper:

"For what it's worth, I truly am sorry."

She doesn't get a response. The teen remains unresponsive. At least it's been said though. With that, she closes her door, suddenly feeling exhausted. The woman makes her way over to the creaky old bed and sits down on it. She reaches under the pillow until her fingers find a small piece of jewellery. Pulling out the broach, she finds herself wondering how something so small, could possibly cause so much pain. It had torn a family apart in the space of a few days. She thinks back to the teen, sitting through there likely going through his own personal form of hell.

If he's gone by tomorrow morning, she wouldn't be entirely surprised.


	14. Breaking point

**_Author's note: Thanks for the reviews! Just realized, this story is a little bit grimmer than I initially intended. Apologies for that. I guess I'll see where it goes._**

**_/_**

As it turns out, Adrien is there to greet her in the morning the same as he always is.

Well, almost. He's angry or maybe simply lost. She realizes that as soon as she emerges. He doesn't even acknowledge her presence, briefly glancing up at her from the couch. He's always a little sluggish this early in the morning so the woman takes little notice of it or rather she does but doesn't act. She doesn't know how things were for him last night. It's conceivable that he got his head around them one way or another and is ready to start afresh. On the other, they could still be tormenting him.

She makes him breakfast, the same as she always does. Still, he doesn't speak. She quickly realizes that he won't but doesn't push him for answers. He'll speak to her when he's ready. That might be never. As the woman slings her handbag over her shoulder, ready to get to work, she gives him another glance. He's eating at least, she dares to hope that he might be about to embark on a regular school day and that she won't have to explain his absence to them later on today. If he was going to do anything stupid, she reasons, he would have done it last night. Right now, it's just resentment talking.

Nathalie wishes him a good day but gets no response.

She's gone a moment later.

Adrien does go to school. He doesn't have anything else to do. What else does he have now other than Dylan? His mind is strangely blank as he makes his way down the corridors and to his first class. There's an anger inside of him. It's raging against the injustice of everything which surrounds him: a father who is threatening everything to save a mother he loves and a rescuer who is helping him stop his mother from being revived because doing so would be wrong.

He doesn't know what to do about Nathalie. A part of him wants to hate her and another little voice tell him that she's only done what's right. No doubt his father would argue something similar to justify his own actions.

Making things all the worse is his mother's face. It hides just behind his eyes, haunting him. He thinks back to how things used to be, how much he loved her. He wants her back. He already has one of the miraculous. He's on decent terms with Ladybug, surely it would be easy enough for him to take hers. He can't though. A warning rings through his ears. As Plagg has already reminded him, there would be a cost for such a wish. If Emilie wakes up, someone else would have to sleep. It crosses his mind more than once to do it anyhow. She was a good person. The world deserves her back. Then, he realizes once more what it would entail and stops himself.

He can't take another life. Even indirectly. He hears his mother scolding him simply for entertaining the notion.

Still, it weighs heavily upon his shoulders and he's not in the best of moods as he sits through his classes. Truth be told. He's hurting and lonely. There's nobody in the world that he can turn to asides perhaps his kwami and there's only so much he can say and do to make things better. He wants his mother back, if for no other reason that to feel safe in her arms and to forget about everything going on around him. He wouldn't have to be lost any more…

His troubles cause him to cut himself off from the rest of the world, even more than he usually was. He barely even reacts to the name call at the beginning of the class. His classmates bounce off of him more than normal. He doesn't pay them any notice whatsoever as opposed to simply being distant. They've reached a stage where they either simply don't care or can't be bothered making any more effort where he was concerned, writing him off as a lost cause.

He makes it right into gym class before he gets into trouble.

It's his fault, objectively. His head isn't in the game. When asked to stand in goal. He doesn't even move, at least not at any pace. He simply stands there and watches as the ball flies past him time and time again. From time to time, he might make a half-hearted attempt to do something about it but it's little more than slowly walking after those that are literally rolling across the ground. His teammates run out of patience almost as quickly as the coach. After about the ninth goal scored by Rose of all people, they're really grumbling.

Another goal is scored. This time they've had enough. It's Kim who comes over to him. The teen is obviously fed up and now wants either an explanation or an apology, preferably both. Dylan completely ignores his demands to know what's going on and then his accusation that he's intentionally trying to cause them to lose. He looks his classmate in the eye but says nothing, remaining stubbornly silent. The others spot things heating up and do their best to try and intervene. It's hard to act with the stranger from the south but their friend they're more familiar with is informed that it's not worth getting bothered about.

The quiet and somewhat condescending way that he's being treated by the newcomer seems to be getting under Kim's skin, even as Max tries to pull him back, he shouts:

"So what's your deal Dylan des Sources?! Trying to make us all as miserable as you are?!"

It's not even really an insult but he flies off handle.

With this much anger bubbling under the surface, it was only a matter of time before it erupted. Kim's just been both kind and unfortunate enough to give him the opportunity to vent.

Before anyone can react, Dylan jumps at him. He knocks the teen off of his feet, tackling him to the ground and sending him tackling. They collide with some of the other students standing nearby. It's a strange feeling which takes over him in those few seconds. He doesn't think, just acts. For a few blissful seconds, he feels the rage seeping out of him, finally given some escape route. He blanks out for those few instants, allowing himself to be free from everything that's been troubling him. There's a madness behind his eyes which sends a chill down the spines of all those who witness it.

Then with a sharp and blunt pain, he is brought back into reality. Kim is bigger, maybe stronger too. Whilst he was certainly taken by surprise by the attack, he's woken up. That coupled with their classmates pulling them apart brings him back into reality. He shakes his head, the bloodlust vanishing and leaving him weak-legged. For a few seconds, he simply doesn't know where he is. He's released quite quickly as the others aren't too eager on becoming his next potential victims. That and they're rather eager to see if their friend is alright.

He's stunned, that much is clear from the horrified look he gives his attacker. Amazingly, there's no blood.

What's he done?

A sick feeling settles into his stomach and the rest of the world fades away. He's not angry any more. All he can see is the looks of fear and anger in his classmates eyes. He realizes that he's crossed some sort of a line.

The teacher's yelling barely even registers with him. He gets to his feet, complying silently as he makes his way towards the principle's office. His mind is a thousand miles away. It's not focused on anything in particular but simply repeats the fact that he's messed up endlessly. There's a chance now that he'll be expelled, he realizes that. Fighting generally isn't tolerated in the school and he is solely to blame for what happened. He's so wrapped up in events that he doesn't even take any notice of his companion, assigned to ensure that he makes it to the man's office and doesn't try to run away or get into another fight on his way there.

"Look…" Marinette speaks quietly to him after they get far enough away to be out of earshot. "I get that you're not from around here but you need to watch the attitude. Hawk Moth prays on negative emotions."

Hawk Moth… He could have done without that name being brought up. It fuels the rage, causing it to simmer a little under the surface.

He casts the teen next to him a curious glance, surprised that she'd even talking to him. He wasn't too sure what he was expecting to see, yet more anger and fear perhaps? He would have imagined that the usually polite but somewhat flustered and clumsy Marinette would not want to be in the company of someone who'd just started a fight with one of her classmates. Instead, she seems unsettled true but not resentful. Instead, he finds something behind her eyes which truly surprises him: compassion.

It's as if somehow, she's managed to see something which he'd been trying his best to conceal from the others. He lashed out because he was in pain.

"What?" He manages, somewhat unsettled.

"I'm not a psychologist but it seems like something's bothering you." She speaks slowly, carefully.

"Maybe it is…" His voice trails off for a moment before he remembers that he's not supposed to be so open, especially not around her. "What's it to you?"

"There are counsellors and stuff you know…" She informs him somewhat hesitantly. "If you want to someone your age, well- I'm not much but I'm class representative. If anything's wrong, you can talk to me. I promise, I won't judge..."

He stops.

The way she speaks is like someone who truly cares. A friend. She's desperate to try and find what's hurting him and to make it better if she can or at least to shoulder some of the pain with him. He doesn't know how to react to that. So he simply stares at her like she's some kind of alien. She offers him a very small smile. Just enough to try and let him know that it's alright, he can trust her.

He wants to speak, to talk. Anything to remove this weight from his chest which feels like it's burrowing into his heart.

God help him, he almost does.

It's only when he remembers that the reason he can't accept Marinette's kindness is the same reason that he's doing all of this: to keep hers and the others safe, that he stops himself. Somewhere deep inside, Adrien lets out a little sob as he prepares to do what he knows has to be done. Dylan however steels himself, his eyes becoming cold and harsh as he frowns. The smile vanishes as the teen realizes that her offer isn't welcome. He can't leave it at that though. If he wants to make sure that she'll keep her distance, he'll have to do something a good deal worse than just a dirty look.

It takes a lot of effort for him to be cruel enough to be mean to a good person, someone whom he cares about. Every fibre in his being screams that this is wrong.

"You stay away from me Marinette Dupain-Cheng!"

It's a cold growl, a warning. Stay away or else. She stops walking, standing there as if she can't quite believe what her ears just heard. He doesn't wait for a response, sticking his hands and sore knuckles in his pockets as he speeds up, taking long strides to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. He forces himself not to look back, least Adrien wake up again and start screaming at what he's doing.

By the end of this, he reasons, he'll be a worse monster than Hawk Moth.


	15. Feathers from the sky

**_Author's note: Thanks again for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

The next week is one of the worst of his life, second only to the time after his mother's disappearance.

He is almost entirely alone. His classmates don't even look at him any more and dialogue with Nathalie has come to an absolute halt, largely from his choosing. He's not sure he's said a word to her since that night she'd told him about his mother. After that first morning, the same is largely true for her.

She gets called in for disciplinary meeting following his attack on Kim. They don't talk about it. She knows that he's aware that he was in the wrong. Arguing about the matter would only drive yet another wedge between what's rapidly becoming a chasm between them. She doesn't know what to do with him, that much is clear.

She sits next to him as the teacher's labour the point that fighting is never acceptable. He remains silent, unsure what else he can do. He's not entirely present in the meeting. The school authorities and Nathalie's words don't quite register. It's like he's somehow tuned himself from the rest of the world. It's only when they speak directly to him, evidently expecting some kind of response that he's able to pull himself together enough to respond. The main thing they want is some sort of an explanation behind his actions. It's something that he can't give them. He acted on impulse. Stress erupting and causing him to lash out.

Then comes the humiliating part. They're asked if everything was okay. If they were settling in well enough. They're trying to find the source of the problem and with Dylan being as quiet as he is, it's naturally towards his "mother" that they turn. Calm and stable as always, the woman answers for the teen who's still barely speaking. She lies, arguing in his favour and reasoning that the boy is homesick and struggling to adjust. They seem to buy into it more or less. It won't happen again, they make that much clear.

He escapes with ten hours of detention.

It's a long and uncomfortable metro ride back to the outer limits of the city. Thing are no better upon returning to the flat. They sit down to eat some leftovers from the night before without exchanging a world. She's furious with him but feels to much pity and guilt to act on it and that makes things all the worse.

Both are lost.

He spends the week alone. It needs suits him nor is it utterly unbearable. He's reached a strangely numb state. It's as if the rest of the world around him fails to even register any more. He's trapped by it, a prisoner of a reality he no longer feels a part of. Somewhere along the line, his life turned into a nightmare and now he doesn't know how to escape from it.

The akuma attack barely even registers.

He sits in the detention hall alone. The person supposedly meant to be keeping an eye on him left to see what the commotion was and hasn't returned. No doubt either fleeing from or already a victim of the akuma. It's only Plagg incessantly screaming in his ear that he needs to do something and that the apology note he's supposed to write to Kim can wait. The lad would be far happier if his life is saved! Somewhat robotically, he gets to his feet and transforms once he's completely sure no one else is around. Things simply don't seem to matter any more.

Cat Noir makes his way through the school corridors, somewhat oblivious to the surrounding panic. He slips out the nearest window, climbing onto the rooftops. The good thing about akumas is that they are rarely discrete. The news helicopter flying overhead is a clear giveaway. He spots the poor soul a few seconds later. He's not too sure what's got them all worked up but they seem to be searching for something, for someone. It's hard to tell if they're looking for the miraculous holders or the source of their initial distress. He doesn't really care. What counts is limiting the damage. More often than not, it's innocents that get caught in the crossfire.

He walks up calmly behind the akuma who doesn't seem to have noticed that he's being followed. For a moment, Cat Noir simply contemplates the individual. He should feel some sympathy for them, it's probably not entirely their fault that they got so desperate as to accept Hawk Moth's bargain. Instead, he feels nothing:

"I want to talk..."

The akuma turns around evidently surprised to see him standing there. Truth be told, that's not the person whose attention he's eager to get, it's the man behind him. He knows from what Nathalie has told him that Hawk Moth hears and sees all that his puppets do. He'll see his son speaking to him. Maybe that's why the akuma pauses. The young man doesn't even bother to register whatever this person's decided to call themselves in their moments of madness.

The way that they hesitate leads him to believe that somewhere, his father must be telling them to be patient, to listen and hear him out. It's hard for the teen not to imagine that his parent isn't at least somewhat concerned about what's happened to his only son. There's no fear as he stands there. He pictures himself in front of his father, not some random akuma the likes of which he's grown rather accustomed to dealing with these past few months. There's both a lot and only a few things that he wants to say. He's unlikely to get much of a speech in. This is a public space as well, he doesn't want to risk giving too much information away: 

"I know why you're doing this. It isn't right… She wouldn't want-"

"Cat Noir look out!"

He didn't even see it coming or her for that matter.

There's an explosion and he's knocked clean off of his feet. Not by the blast though by something or rather someone else colliding with him.

It takes him a few seconds to get his bearings. It's the sound of the helicopter nearby which brings him to. He's stunned. A part of the building he was standing on has collapsed, no doubt an attack from the akuma. Someone however pushed him to safety. Forcing his eyes open, he spots Ladybug next to him. She's not moving. For a moment, he fears the worst until he realizes that she's still breathing. It looks like she's taken the worst of it. His vision is a little blurry but he's still more than capable of making out the figure of the akuma, slowly approaching.

This is his fault. Again. She must have arrived. Maybe she missed his attempts at negotiation or simply saw that it was just a ploy. Whatever the case, she paid the price.

He glances back up at their foe and wonders if he has what it takes to win by himself or at least to buy some time until Ladybug recovers. He's not even too sure what tricks this particular akuma has up their sleeve. His best guess is that the butterfly must be somewhere in what looks like some sort of a bracelet but there's no chance of him reaching it. Not right now. Already, his body is informing him that he's pushed things just a little too far and should spend the time resting. Could he perhaps carry her away? No, there wouldn't be time. He couldn't get her far enough away.

Getting to his feet. He does his best to protect her. He's hurt and alone. Even if he weren't, his mind's still a mess.

For the next five minutes, all those watching on their televisions or other screens get to watch Cat Noir getting pummelled. He gets up, time and time again but without Ladybug, part of the dynamic is missing. He's desperate to buy her the time that she needs to recover but eventually, the blows mount up and he's unable to get back up. He lies there, gasping for breath as his foe, perhaps a little shaken by their fight approaches. Already, the akuma's eyes are fixed on his ring.

Cat Noir doesn't stop. He struggles tooth and nail to get back up to his feet even as his body commands him not to. As his aching ribs cause him to cough and splutter, he spots a small fluffy feather making its way down from the sky, drifting down slowly. It's a strange thing to notice. Even as it makes contact with his ring.

In a flash, something changes. Something connects with him. He's not too sure what it was but he's no longer alone. There's another person, another being who feels like they're right next to him. Somehow, they feel like they're somewhat familiar…

"Adrien..." He's heard that voice before…

"Who are you?" He asks weakly.

"Adrien, I need you to trust me!" There's a desperate urgency behind the woman's voice. "I can't keep this up indefinitely. It's going to be brief, a few seconds, make them count!"

For some reason, he doesn't question, giving in to their wishes. Accepting their offer and their help. It's not like he has any other options.

In truth, he's not too sure what happens next. There's a flash and he's not alone. There's a monster by his side. Its presence if brief but leaves a mark, the akuma staggers backwards in shock. Cat Noir summons what little strength he has left to give and leaps forwards, with a cry of "Cataclysm". His hand makes contact with the bracelet and in a few seconds, it's over.

He falls to the ground, unable to move any further. The akuma vanishes, leaving room for some stranger he can't name. He takes a few deep breaths, trying briefly to forget about the world around him. It's only a few moments later that something nearby shifts. There's a flash of red and a magical yoyo shoots out, grabbing the butterfly before it can escape. Ladybug has recovered. Well, not quite. She's slightly better. It's clear that she's still in pain and far from amused with the situation but they're safe.

As the world reverts to normal around them, he forces himself back to his feet and limps over to her. She gives him a cold glare, still he forces his way on:

"Are you okay?" Cat Noir manages to ask.

"What's with you?! You could have been killed!"

"I'm sorry..." He mutters under his breath, still aching. "I've gotta go..."

"Cat Noir!" She calls after him, anger giving way to concern.

He doesn't linger, eager to put some distance between the two of them. He doesn't bother to question the feather from the sky, even though it weighs heavily on his mind. He just wants to go home, through a cover over himself up with a blanket and forget about the world. Later, he'll reflect on the matter. He already knows that he's going to have to get his head around his life as Cat Noir. Today, he's proven that he's a danger to his partner… He can't afford to keep on risking her like that. If he can't screw his head on straight, then it's going to be others who suffer for it.

It's a slap in the face but enough of one? He's honestly not sure.

By the time he stumbles up the stairs, he's exhausted. To hell with finishing his detention, they're unlikely to bother about it following an akuma attack. Dylan Lebrun went back home. Went home to ignoring his only human companion. Back to a home where-

The door is open.

He stops instantly. The door is never open. He always locks it. It's basic safety rules. Instantly, a form of dread takes over him. He can't not go in. That much is clear. He glances down at Plagg, hiding in the pocket of his sweatshirt. The kwami seems worried. That's never a good sign. He enters slowly, his heart in his mouth. A part of the teen expects to find his father there or rather Hawk Moth. He would be waiting, having tracked them down after all this time and then it would be over. There's no way that right now he'd be able to fight the man, even if he had the heart to do so.

Instead, he finds the room empty. He enters slowly, closing the door behind him but not looking it. Could he have forgotten to lock the door? His mind's been so scattered recently, it's far from impossible.

A soft groan draws his attention. It's coming from behind the couch of all places. Slowly, he tiptoes round. Already dreading what he might find. In a few seconds, his blood turns cold. There's a body there, immobile and seemingly dead. He freezes and simply stares in horror unable to process what he's seeing. It could have been minutes or mere seconds that he spends like that before suddenly something clicks. He practically collapses next to the woman with a single cry, his accent and their new identities forgotten:

"Nathalie!"

She's limp, unconscious and honestly looks like she's dying and he doesn't know what to do.


	16. Broken

**_Author's note: Thanks for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

He doesn't know what to do.

He acts purely on instinct, taking her in his arms. For a few seconds, he actually thinks that she might be dead. She's turned deathly pale and is heavy, unresponsive. It takes a few seconds for the teen to realize that she's still breathing. Instinctively, he checks for any signs of injury which could account for her current state. His initial assumption is that someone must have attacked her. Yet there isn't the slightest bump or cut on her body.

Is she ill?

He feels her forehead and finds her to be stone cold. It's as if something had sucked all of the strength and life out of her. The next thing he does is check her pulse or at least try to. He's seen it done in movies all the time but whilst he can't feel the occasional beat, he's unable to say if it's strong, weak, fast or slow. At least her heart is still beating. That's something.

He panics.

This isn't a situation he's ever been faced with before. He grew up isolated from the outside world. Illness wasn't something that had ever been faced with, at least nothing more than the occasional passing cold. He assumes that any more serious matters, if they had ever arisen, would have been tackled by one of the household's adults. He realizes that he knows precious little about Nathalie. He doesn't know if she has any underlying health problems or even allergies which could cause her to pass out like this.

She's a practical woman, he reasons, if she knew that she was liable to suffer from… Whatever this is - then she would have warned him, briefed him about what he needed to do.

This is pointless, potentially burning precious seconds which could otherwise be used to potentially save her life, if it's in danger. He needs to call an ambulance. The medical profession will be infinitely better suited to dealing with such matters. All he can do is panic. Even Plagg is of precious little assistance, hover and staring in horror but saying nothing. Doing his best to keep a hold of her, he reaches for his phone, fumbling as he attempts to get it out of his pocket.

It's then that she suddenly springs back into life. The woman coughs loudly, spluttering and gasping for air. She seems startled, her hands flail around, eventually succeeding in grabbing a hold of him. There was a mixture of fright and confusion behind her eyes. For a few seconds, he's pretty convinced that she doesn't know who he is or where she is for that matter. The teen just holds her loosely in his arms, startled by her sudden action. It takes her a while to calm down, taking a few breaths before degenerating back into another coughing fit.

Plagg seems troubled but right now, Adrien doesn't pay him much attention.

"Hold on, I'm going to call an ambulance."

"No!" She manages to gasp out through her coughs.

He frowns, confused. Surely she must realize that she needs to see a doctor. He's not an expert but this is surely more than a simple bug. Maybe she's delirious, he reasons. Scared out of his wits, he prepares to ignore her request and begins to dial once more the emergency services. They'll know what to do. They had better because he hasn't a clue.

Just as he's about to ring the number, Nathalie lashes out. She actually manages to swat the phone out of his hands. Startled, he watches as it flies across the room and lands not too far away on the carpet. He turns back to her, looking for some manner of an explanation. To his surprise, he finds that as weak as she is, there's something that's returned behind her blue eyes which leads him to believe that she's still aware of what's going on and knows just what she's doing. So against his better judgement, he simply waits.

For the next ten minutes, the woman alternates between being largely unconscious and then waking up with a fit of coughs so violent it's a wonder she's even taking in any oxygen at all. He feels useless. There's probably some position that he should put her in to make sure that she doesn't swallow her tongue or to make breathing easier for her but he doesn't know them. So he just kneels there, utterly helpless. Wondering if the only person Adrien Agreste still has in his life might be about to leave him.

Finally however she seems to calm down. Her breathing is laboured and see looks as if she's only just clinging to consciousness but it's moderately better than it was before. With a trembling arm, she reaches out, pointing towards something not all that far away. Adrien spots what she's gesturing at not all that far away. It looks like it was somewhat carelessly discarded, almost thrown away. He reaches out and picks it up cautiously.

It's a Miraculous. He realizes that much in the space of a few seconds. Not just any old Miraculous either, it's the peacock. He gets the distinct feeling that he's seen it before somewhere but doesn't question it. There's little doubt in his mind that Nathalie is its present owner. She's been hiding it from him and suddenly the feather from this afternoon makes a lot more sense. He turns it over a couple of times in his hand before turning back to face her, astonished. She seems unsettled, even concerned: 

"...Broken." Nathalie's voice is impossibly weak and raspy.

"Oh no..."

Plagg fixes the jewel, his eyes quickly accessing it. He seems to be truly worried all of a sudden. When questioned, the kwami is evasive, suddenly seeming far more focused on Nathalie than he had been earlier. It's hardly reassuring for the teen. As far as he can tell, she's still struggling to breathe and surely it can't be a good sign that her skin is this cold. Scared and needing guidance, he turns back to her:

"Nathalie, I don't know what to do..."

She closes her eyes, taking a breath, trying to regain some composure. With a hand still trembling, she points to somewhere behind her, specifically towards her bedroom. No doubt that was where she had been heading before her legs had given out beneath her. Adrien understands. The teen struggles to carry her but finds himself lacking enough strength to physically pick her up. Instead, he ends up more or less dragging her. It strains his back and certainly isn't dignified nor is it particularly comfortable but it's all that he can manage. At least it's not far.

He makes even more of a mess of trying to actually get her into bed but eventually succeeds with a fair amount of effort. She's largely unconscious by the time that he manages to tuck her in. He spends a few seconds watching the woman, eager to ensure that she's resting. She seems to be. Her breathing still isn't quite normal but at least she's stopped coughing.

Suddenly exhausted, the young man allows himself to fall backwards. Its like his legs won't bear his weight any longer. He doesn't know how long he spends there, with his back to the wall, his legs pulled up against him with only the sound of Nathalie's laboured breathing and the rain battering against the windows surrounding him. He replays the events of the day time and time again in his mind, trying to make some sort of sense of them. Everything seems to be happening at once. It's all so fast that he doesn't even know where to begin. He's swept away in the currents, drowning and no matter what he tries, he can't resurface.

Somewhat listlessly, he slips his hand back into the pocket of his sweatshirt and pulls out the peacock miraculous. He stares at the piece of jewellery. What on Earth does it have to do with all of this?

"Careful!" Plagg is genuinely terrified.

"I wasn't going to use it." Adrien defends himself, too tired to bother with his supposed southern accent. "All this time… She had it. She was Mayura…"

He had assumed Nathalie was largely innocent in as far as actually assisting Hawk Moth with his plans had gone. Now he knows that couldn't be true. It actually all made some kind of sick sense. She'd been his assistant in almost every way imaginable. Assisting him at his time of greatest need, preventing the heroes of Paris from defeating him when he had first shown himself in the flesh on the Eiffel Tower. Since then, they'd only had to fight some of her projections a handful of times and then, suddenly they'd suddenly disappeared just at the same time as Nathalie Sancoeur and Adrien Agreste had run away.

It was a coincidence he hadn't given any thought to up until this particular moment.

He feels the sharp and bitter taste of betrayal in his mouth as he realizes he's been living with another of his enemies all this time and hadn't even realized it. She hadn't trusted him enough to let him know the truth. Just like so much in his life and their relationship, it was on a need to know business and evidently there's an awful lot which she doesn't think he needs to know. For some reason however, his kwami doesn't seem to be quite as angry as he is right now.

"And look at what it cost her..." Plagg floats over to her, there's some honest compassion behind his eyes which takes his partner by surprise.

"The miraculous did that to her?" The teen frowns slightly looking at the jewel then back to the woman.

"It's broken… It can't work properly like that. You see we kwamis power the miraculous. If it's broken then it's like the circuit's not complete. It can't get enough power..." His voice trails off for a moment as he turns back towards the woman. "So it takes it from the holder instead, leeches you until you're dry. You humans, you're so fragile... The more times you use it, the more it damages you."

So she was dying…

Every time that she used the power it was tearing her apart and his father had allowed her to do so knowingly. Getting to his feet somewhat shakingly, Adrien approaches slowly. He looks down at the woman's features wondering what on Earth had possessed her to use it's abilities in the first place. There is so much about Nathalie which he doesn't understand. His head turns back towards the living room, aware that his phone is still there and that maybe if he calls for help, they might be able to do something for her yet. An IV drip, some medicine, a nice massage… Anything rather than simply leaving her here to fend for herself.

"They won't be able to help her." It's as if Plagg could somehow read his mind.

"So what can I do?" The teen asks quietly.

The only response he gets from the kwami is an apologetic look as he shakes his head slowly, confirming the boy's worst fears. Adrien nods slowly, understanding before turning his attention back to the woman.

He feels awful, powerless. Even though she's sleeping now, she's clearly still suffering. All he can do is wait and hope that she's still with him by the time that it's over. Exhaustion takes it's toll quite quickly. He finds himself kneeling by the side of her bed, reluctant to leave least she somehow need him during the night, unable to leave her alone at a time like this. Tentatively, he reaches out and takes her hand in his own. Were she awake, he doubts she would appreciate the gesture but right now, he hopes that despite her unconscious state it will provide some comfort, letting her know, no matter how far away that she isn't alone. He's here with her.

Plagg flies in, using all of his strength to carry with him Adrien's blanket, usually reserved for the couch and draping it over the teen's shoulders before snuggling up next to him in search of warmth and comfort. Exhaustion gets the better of the lad. He rests his head on the bed, heavy eyelids fluttering closed as the wind and rain continues to batter the glass of the windows.

The sun is up by the time that Nathalie Sancoeur's eyes finally creak open. She feels like she just got run-over by a double-decker bus followed by a tank. Somehow everything, literally everything even her toes hurt. It's made all the worse by the weakness which has come over her, requiring almost all of her strength for even the most seemingly innocuous of actions. She's in a strange place… She doesn't know where but it's very, very cold and there's an unpleasant damp smell hanging, inescapable in the air.

It takes her a while to realize that she isn't alone. There's somebody else in the room with her. She manages to find the strength to move her head so as to fix a young man kneeling there by the side of her bed, fixing her. For a moment, she struggles to remember just who it is. Her mind refuses to work properly. It's his eyes, not their color but rather the way that he looks at her: soft, desperate and needing which clues her in finally to who it is.

"Adrien..." She breathes out softly.

He nods slowly but offers her a weak smile, one she'd wondered if she would ever see again.

It takes her two hours to recover enough to be able to do so little as sit up in her bed. Adrien stays with her throughout. Only leaving briefly to fetch her some water. He seems solemn, sitting there. All of a sudden, it's like he's aged a decade. He doesn't talk. She'd been expecting a thousand worried questions, eager to see if she was alright. Instead, he seems to take it as read that she isn't and that suits her. She doesn't want him working himself into a frenzy. 

"A part of me already knew…" He finally speaks, explaining himself. "I guess that's what made me so angry, what made me hate him so much."

"Knew what?" She thinks that she knows what he's referring to but wants to be sure none-the-less.

"What Hawk Moth – what my father – wanted the miraculous for." Adrien lets out a heavy sigh. "I guess because a part of me wants the same thing."

He looks away, back towards the city, wondering if it's going to be threatened yet again today. His father won't stop because like him, he loves his mother and would do pretty much anything for her. As influenced by the akuma attacks which have become something of a regular occurrence for the city, their enemy won't stop and has it in his head that there's no price too great for bringing his wife back. A part of the teen can't help but wonder if things had been a little different, if he might have sided with his father. Maybe if the man had just been more open to start with? It's a thought which has been weighing on his mind for some time now.

Nathalie doesn't comment. A silent understanding passes between them. Perhaps neither of them are entirely sure how things would be if things had just been a little bit different. It's not somewhere their of them want to venture.

There's some hope that her condition might be improving when she takes note of the time and informs him:

"You should be on your way. You don't want to miss class."

He's already going to be late. It's just a matter of how late he's going to be. Despite the sternness of her statement, Adrien laughs. Trust Nathalie to have been terrifyingly close to death's door last night and to be worrying about adhering to schedules the next morning. She gives him something of a disapproving look, a challenge which she promptly loses as some more coughs escape her, startling the teen who had assumed that she'd recovered. She silences him with a raised hand, covering her mouth with the other. It's only a brief attack but enough to concern him.

"It's nothing." She assures him, an obvious and poorly hidden lie.

"Nathalie, there is no way I'm leaving you here alone."

For a moment, she looks as if she might be about to argue but holds off. Instead, she smiles gratefully.

"Thank you, Adrien."


	17. Recovery

**_Author's note: Thanks for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

It's Saturday, two days since Nathalie used the miraculous.

Adrien would like to be able to say that she's completely recovered but that would be a lie. Whilst at least the woman is now able to move around and can stay awake for most of the day, it's still more than apparent that she's weak. She doesn't move around much, preferring to settle in the armchair, only getting up if she needs to relieve herself. From time to time, she suffers from another bout of coughs, whilst they're certainly not as violent as they were that first night, it's evidently putting quite the strain on her lungs. Cough-mixture does nothing apparently, she's already tried it and there's no sense in wasting money.

"Time is the only cure." She tells him after a particularly bad attack. "My body needs to get back what was taken from it."

He takes her word for it but looks up online what to do with a sick person all the same. The vagueness of his search criteria likely doesn't help with things. Almost everything he reads advises to get them to a doctor if physically possible. That's definitely not a possibility here. So he does everything else he can think of: ensures that she's comfortable, does what he can to provide comfort and ensures that she keeps on eating the most wholesome foods he can prepare and drinking plenty of water.

What had essentially been Nathalie's job, cooking was now something that he had to handle. If she felt up to it, she would call out some tips or instructions from the couch. He follows them to the best of his ability. Cooking isn't a skill that he's ever been required to practice that much, barely at all in fact. They had a chef back at the mansion and here, it's been his new carer whose been dealing with it. He does his best and he's acutely aware that it's sub-par but at least they're eating. He's aware that it's a skill he's going to have to work on if he ever wants to make his own way in the world. For the time being however, it's sufficient. Everything is sufficient for the two of them to survive...

Sometimes Nathalie has relapses, as if whatever had plagued her the first time suddenly comes back, eager to get in one last attack. He doesn't understand it and neither does she. He does all he can for her. She doesn't always welcome his attention or concern, brushing him off more or less firmly. Occasionally however, he reasons it must be bad because she doesn't complain when he brings her a blanket and a cup of warm coffee. Instead, muttering a "thank you". She doesn't inform him that she's suffering but he'll usually find her curled up on the couch, shivering. In such a small space, it's hard to ignore the suffering of another and even more difficult to conceal it.

It only tends to last a few hours, sometimes even less. Then it's like she gets some sort of a second wind and recovers. The only good news is that the time between her weaker moments is growing. The attacks are less and less severe and with every passing hour she's regaining both strength and color. Hopefully, in a day or two she'll be back to normal. As luck would have it however, she's going through one of her rougher patches when the doorbell rings.

Adrien stops stirring the pot of tonight's chicken soup and gives Nathalie a concerned glance. They don't get visitors. At no point since they moved in has anyone ever knocked at their door. Strangely, she doesn't seem that concerned. Frowning, the teen tentatively approaches the peep-hole and looks through. He's not too sure what he was expecting, Hawk Moth's unlikely to politely knock. The person standing outside however was perhaps the last one he thought would ever chose to come here…

"It's Marinette!"

"You sound surprised." Nathalie notes from her spot on the couch.

"Yeah. The last time we talked I pretty much threatened her." He gets a disapproving look. "It's not like I had a choice!"

"The girl can't phase through solid objects, let her in."

The teen obliges, reminding himself that he has to become the cool and distant southerner. Thankfully, that means that he can look well and truly surprised when he opens the door. The way that he gawks at her is apparently not all that intimidating (not that it was really supposed to be). $he meets his gaze coldly. It's a side to the young woman he's not that familiar with. It unsettles him. As a result, he stands there in the doorway, staring. Their guest doesn't speak either, fixing him, seemingly waiting for… Something?

What could have brought Marinette to his doorstep like this? She can't have come here by accident. She lives too far away for her to have gotten lost or strayed here by pure chance. Nobody else that he knows of lives in the area. Which seems to point to her coming here to see him. How did she even get his address?!

"What are you doing here?" He manages eventually.

"I came to give you the work you missed for biology."

Sure enough, she hands him some papers. She does so with her arms outstretched seemingly keen to keep him at arm's length. He takes them hesitantly, unsure just what on Earth could have driven her to drop these off. He doubted that the teachers would have asked her to come out here, they didn't have that amount of authority. Which means that for some unfathomable reason that he can't even begin to wrap his head around, despite his warnings and the way that he treated her last time they spoke – if it could even be called that – she came her on her own accord. Just to give him some papers.

It's perhaps against her better judgement as she doesn't seem to be all that pleased at being here. Maybe it's because she just had to climb 12 flights of stairs and is now being made to stand in a doorway by a young man who has made it very clear that he doesn't want anything to do with her… That was unlikely to put her in a good mood.

Still, Dylan struggles to process just what's going on. He simply can't imagine what would possibly cause Marinette to think that this is a good idea.

"You didn't have to come here to give it to me. You could have done it on Monday."

"The exam is on Tuesday and you must be the only guy in school without an email address." For the second time, this time a little exasperated, she hands him the papers. "So I'd said I'd give these to you."

"Thank you..." This time he had the presence of mind to take them from her. "It's just- Why would you?"

He can almost hear Nathalie facepalm in the background. He's acutely aware that he's making a mess of this and a rear end of himself in the process. If Adrien Agreste had been somewhat awkward in social situations, Dylan Lebrun was proving that it was possible to do worse. Quite unintentionally. This particular mess he's gotten himself into was of his own making. She must really think he's a special kind of stupid. There's only so much that can realistically be blamed on a rural update.

"Dylan, let the poor girl in, can't you see she's drenched?"

He'd forgotten about Nathalie. He turns back to Marinette and does a double-take. Somehow, he'd managed to miss the fact that's she's absolutely soaked to the bone. No doubt the rain lashing down outside has something to do with it. Doesn't the girl own an umbrella? He knows that she does, he distinctly remembers giving her his the first day that they had met. She must be freezing. If nothing else, he's letting what little hot air is in the flat out.

Shaking his head to bring himself back into reality, the teen steps aside gesturing for her to come in. The girl seems to linger there for a moment, no doubt toying with the idea of going straight back home. Perhaps she had imagined this would be a quick drop-off operation. The weather outside however could be a powerful dissuasive and after a few seconds, she took a few steps inside. Adrien closed the door behind aware that the situation had just become somewhat perilous. One wrong move and they could give their identities away.

He eyes the other teen cautiously. Despite herself, the girl obviously can't quite help but look around the flat. It's falling apart and stinks, that much hasn't changed since they moved in. None of them takes much note of it any more, that's all. To a stranger, it must be pretty revolting.

Their guest's attention falls on Nathalie a few moments later. The woman is still in her armchair, blanket pulled over her to keep her warm. There's no doubt that she's sick, so she doesn't even try to conceal the fact. She does manage to sport a slight smile, a gentle and reassuring one, as if to say that it's not quite as bad as it looks. Adrien is abruptly reminded that he should really introduce the two of them, given that, officially, they've never met:

"_Man_, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a girl in my class. Marinette, this is _Man_..."

"A pleasure to meet you young lady." Declares Nathalie.

"You too..." The teen replies with a small smile which fails to hide her concern, briefly turning towards Adrien. "I'm sorry. They said it was you who was sick. I wouldn't have come-"

"No, it's me…" The woman takes a deep breath. "Don't worry though, I'm not contagious. My son's very grateful that you dropped his schoolwork off, aren't you?"

"Uh, yes. Very."

He is actually. Another day, another time he would have been able to express it a whole lot better than he is right now.

A few moments later, Adrien is dispatched to go and get a clean towel so that Marinette can dry herself off a bit. She was unlucky she claims. It was a little bit cloudy when she left home and then no sooner had she stepped out of the cover of the metro had the heavens opened. She'd gotten a bit lost trying to find the building and had ended up running around the project for about a quarter of an hour before managing to find her way inside. With no umbrella, she was expecting an unpleasant trip back to her home.

"A cloudburst it'll pass." Nathalie, or rather Delphine assures the teen. "You're more than welcome to wait here until it does."

"Thank you..." Marinette eyes Dylan somewhat uncertainly.

Dylan's not too keen on having her here. He makes that much clear by staying decidedly quiet about the matter. There are no hostile looks given. He gives her that curtsy. Whatever game Nathalie thinks that she's playing by allowing the girl to spend more than few seconds in the house, it seems to go contrary to everything that they'd agreed on previously. As a result, not wanting to be reminded of what he's had to say goodbye to, he tries his best to isolate himself in the cooking corner.

It makes things rather awkward. In such a small space, to have one number of a small group so deliberately trying to isolate himself from the others, it's impossible to ignore. On that front, Marinette is being made to feel unwelcome. Nathalie periodically asks her a few questions. Anything to fill the silence. She's weak though and not in much of a state for prolonged discussions. As a result, their "guest" spends a good amount of her time looking out of the window, no doubt silently praying for the rain to stop and for her to be able to go home. There's a break in the clouds coming their way. It'll likely only be a few more minutes before she can finally escape.

To his surprise however, her voice peeps up again, directed towards him:

"You cook?"

"Not really..."

His answer comes as he frowns fixing the soup. Nathalie's made it a couple of times and he's pretty sure it neither looks nor smells like this. It's not wrong but it's certainly not entirely right either. He feels somewhat ashamed that he can't do more for her. She claims that it doesn't matter. He's doing his utmost and that's what counts. It's more than enough for her.

As if driven by some unseen force, Marinette pulls herself away from the window and joins him in the kitchen. She keeps a few feet between the two of them. She watches him out of her peripheral vision, eyes reluctant to leave him even in order to check on the soup. She doesn't trust him. That much is obvious and it hurts. His tries not to look at her, ashamed for having made such a good person evidently fear him.

"Do you mind?" She requests softly, gesturing at a spoon. Confused, he hands it to her, allowing her to take a sip of the soup. "It needs some seasoning."

He surrenders control of the kitchen to her aware that she likely knows far more about cooking than he ever will. Dylan and his "_Man_" watch her curiously but don't make any attempt to interrupt or otherwise question her. She doesn't do much actually: adds some salt and pepper, tasting occasionally and turns down the heat before he somehow manages to caramelize a chicken. It doesn't take her long. The teen steps back and invites him to give it a taste. He obliges. Dylan doesn't say thank you but simply nods his head, admitting silently that she is an infinitely better chef than he is.

The rain has stopped and Marinette declares that she intends to go home. Nathalie thanks her for what she's done before turning to her "son":

"Dylan, walk her back to the metro. It's getting dark and it's not safe for a young woman by-"

She stops suddenly, pray to another violent coughing fit. Adrien watches for a few seconds from a distance. Initially, he assumes that it will only be a couple of little splutters as she usually does. Instead, it just keeps up. Marinette watches, clearly concerned and he decides to at least try and do something – as useless as it will be – to try and ease her nerves. He takes a few steps forwards, approaching. Tentatively, he places a hand on her back and gently rubs it. Nathalie doesn't generally appreciate physical contact. She's not a tactile person and tends to shy away from it. As the victim of such an attack however, she doesn't complain taking what little comfort and assistance she can get.

A few seconds later, she raises a hand, signalling that it's coming to an end. He respectfully backs away but remains hesitant, unwilling to leave her unattended:

"_Man_..." The teen begins.

"I'm fine." She clears her throat before adding somewhat more assertively. "-will be fine. You two go, it doesn't get any safer out there."

Reluctantly, he agrees. He'll escort Marinette. He's grown somewhat accustomed to the rather rough surroundings. He's part of the neighbourhood now, recently moved in but he knows people. His former friend is an outsider. There are some more unpleasant types who roam around after dark in some of the shadier areas. He understands why Nathalie is so instant that he goes with her. It's just common sense he supposes.

It's an awkward walk. At least for him. His mind is elsewhere, distracted by what had just happened to Nathalie. As they exit the building, he glances up at the building, trying to spot where he thinks their flat is. He can't help but wonder if she's up there, coughing still. He wishes that there was some kind of magical cure or at least a guidebook. It's rough. That much is clear. He has a million things on his mind, so much so that he almost forgets at one point that he has company. That is until Marinette speaks up in a quiet voice:

"Man?"

"Maman – _Man_..." It's all the explanation he's willing to give.

She's staring at him and that unsettles him. He shifts uneasily, sticking his hands in his pockets as he walks. It's impossible to ignore her blue eyes, fixing him. He almost snaps, demanding that she looks somewhere else and keeps her nose in her own business. She's too tired to do so however. Instead, he bears it as best as he can. He misses the days when things were simple. When Cat Noir was the only mask he wore…

The teenager frowns. It's as if she's struggling to make sense of just what he's playing at, who he is. It almost feels as if she's trying to peer straight through him. It's a bit too much for him. He looks down, giving her a glare, more irritated than anything else:

"What?"

"You… You've got this whole '_tough guy_' thing going on-" She scowls and lowers her voice mimicking someone much larger and rougher to insist upon the point. "-but you're also a mommy's boy?"

"I..." How to answer that one? Could Marinette Dupain-Cheng really be the one to see through his disguise? "I love my _man_. She's helped me through a lot… and I don't see that as a bad thing!"

"I wasn't saying that it was!" Mainette raises her hands proclaiming her innocence before smiling softly. "It's sweet really."

He raises his eyebrows. It's not the response he was expecting. After everything, she calls Dylan "sweet". He can't make anything of that. He tries to view things from her perspective. He's been nothing but a jerk in front of her. He can't be pleasant to be around. After all, only a little over a week ago, he'd punched one of her friends and then told her to leave him alone forever. She's mad to have come here.

The metro isn't that far away. He just wants to be able to put her on the first train and return to the safety which is the flat, lock himself in there and try to make sense of his life. Marinette throws everything off of balance. She confuses him and it's not pleasant. There's more on her mind however as they continue down the paths with the flickering street lamps above. He's pretty sure that he knows what it is. She's hesitating, aware that it's a potentially sensitive subject and that she might be about to unleash a beast. Still, she dares to open her mouth and ask: 

"Is she sick often?"

"Sometimes…"

It's not entirely true but given that he has no way of knowing just how long the effects of her last use of the peacock miraculous might last or if she'll suffer from other relapses. Having a mother with health issues might make for a decent excuse so long as the doctors never wanted to examine her.

Marinette is quiet after that. Nodding slowly as if to say that she somehow understood everything. He found that very hard to believe. He gives her a brief goodbye, neither nor affectionate nor hostile as she goes for the metro. She'll be fine. It's pretty quiet and probably not quite late enough for any of the really troublesome individuals to be out yet.

Adrien races home. Running as fast as his legs will allow. He hates the idea of leaving Nathalie in her current state alone for more than a few minutes at a time. He always fears the worst, that she'll suffer some kind of relapse and he won't be there to help. As always, his worries are unfounded. She's sitting there when he gets back. The same as she was when he left. If he's been gone ten minutes its a lot. He's learned not to make a big thing of it. Curiously, the woman does not appreciate being fussed over.

Instead, he decides to play it cool. Acting as if nothing much is up. He takes off his jacket, hanging it up before declaring:

"I've never seen Marinette like that. She didn't stutter once-"

"Thank goodness or we'd still be no further along." The woman can't help but declare.

"Weird, around Adrien she-" He's cut short.

"Have you ever considered that maybe miss Dupain-Cheng didn't behave around Adrien Agreste the way that she would behave around everyone else?"

"Why would she-?"

Nathalie gives him a knowing smile.

He spends a few seconds staring, unable to understand what hidden meaning lies behind the gesture. Then, suddenly it clicks. He shakes his head, surprised at such a suggestion. It's the first time that Nathalie has ever brought up such a subject around him and for a few seconds, he simply doesn't know how to respond. Then, he does the only thing that he can and laughs at how prosperous it all sounds to him. Marinette is well known to fluster easily. If she stuttered and appeared so awkward around Adrien it was simply because of her character. He didn't get any "special treatment" from her so to speak.

As such, he's quick to dismiss the implication:

"Nah! Marinette and I, we were just friends."

Nathalie doesn't respond and that unsettles him a little. So he turns to Plagg. The kwami floats there, he too remains silent but goes a little further: raising an eyebrow somewhat dubiously. Surrounded on all sides, Adrien shakes his head unsure how he can get the point across any clearer than he already has. So he retreats. There's only really the bathroom to retreat to if Nathalie's in the main room and he could honestly do with using it right now. So that's where he goes, pausing on the way in however.

"Just friends..." He repeats labouring the point.


	18. Stubbornness

**_Author's note: Thanks again for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

Nathalie's well enough to be back to work on Monday. She still suffers from the occasional bout of coughing but it's nowhere near as severe as it once was. She can realistically claim that she had simply contracted the flu or a severe cold.

It means that Adrien is officially back to school. As unpleasant as school has been these past few weeks, it offers him something of a comforting sense of familiarity. At one point, he used to wake up longing to the be here. He misses those days. Whilst his friends might not be waiting for him any more, the building still offers something of a shield from the outside world. He can try to forget about all the madness with Hawk Moth and the peacock miraculous. True, he's lonely but at least he can bury himself in work. It's a distraction if nothing else.

He makes his way into the building and to his locker, intent on starting afresh. He can make this work. He'll be a lone wolf. Keeping to himself and watching from afar. Whilst such an existence pains him, reminding him that he's now on his own, it does help to remind him just why he's doing all of this in the first place: he needs to keep them safe. He watches as they laugh and talk with one another. The sight makes him jealous, fuels some of the irritation which is constantly gnawing away at him under the surface. It will be worth it however. He tells himself, everything will be worth it: going undercover, Nathalie's sacrifice, everything… If they can keep this place safe then it would make this all worth while.

At least he no longer has to worry about his identity. Adrien Agreste was a peaceful sort, not the type to start throwing his fists around over nothing. His most recent outburst has ensured that none of his former classmates are going to come anywhere near him.

Or so he thought. He's a mixture of confused and alarmed when he sees Marinette Dupain-Cheng coming towards him. For once, she's not late, rushing to class with a croissant in her mouth or her slippers on instead of shoes... The way that her gaze, strangely determined rests upon him confirms that he is most definitely her target. Dylan just stands there. He really doesn't want her to get all that close to him. They were friends once and if anyone is liable to be able to see past the contact lenses and new hairstyle. Despite a frosty look, she continues her approach. She's brave, he'll give her that much. Either that or actively looking for confrontation which knowing the baker's daughter, he can't believe for one second.

This was planned or at least she's discussed the matter with Alya beforehand as the reporter hangs back somewhat. Briefly, they make eye contact. The young journalist seems just as confused by all of this as he is. The brief glance says it all. She's convinced that whatever her friend is about to do is a bad idea.

Dylan makes no attempt to escape or push her away, even as she comes up to him. There's determination behind her blue eyes as she fixes him. It's something of a challenge. If he's going to tell her to leave, then he had better do so now. For a moment, that's exactly what he contemplates doing. He clenches his fists, trying to make himself taller, more imposing. It fails, she's not intimidated. If anything, his efforts only seem to amuse her. There's a somewhat smug smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah… Not going to work."

"What do you want Dupain-Cheng?" He asks eager to get things over and done with.

Still, she doesn't back down. Her attitude only serves to confuse him further.

Adrien knows that he would have made a terrible bully and as a result that must affect some part of this act he as going as Dylan. In his mind, it should have been rather simple: be horrible to people by either ignoring them or physically pushing them away and they would avoid you. That seems to have held true with one notable exception. Apparently, for some reason, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is intent on talking to him. What's more, the aggression he displays seems to having little to no effect on her. She just narrows her eyes, resolve becoming if anything firmer:

"This has got to stop." Her declaration is firm and leaves little room for debate.

"What?" As if he doesn't already know.

"This!" She gestures at him and then at the space surrounding him. "You can't keep on treating others like dirt."

"What is it to you Dupain-Cheng?"

He's aware that Marinette is brave so the fact that she's standing up to him, in itself doesn't surprise him all that much. It's more why she feels obliged to do so that confuses him. In the scheme of things, he's relatively harmless – outburst with Kim asides – if left to himself. If the others simply ignore him, then there won't be any more confrontation. He can understand her objections to Lila. The girl's lies are dangerous in every sense of the word but what is it to her if Dylan Lebrun would rather isolate himself from the rest of the class?

She's not intimidated by his tone. It barely even seems to be registering with her. By the looks of things, she was expecting to be treated in such a manner and has fully equipped herself to deal with the unreasonable.

"As class representative, it's my job to ensure that things work smoothly around here. You-" She points directly at his chest. "Are not helping."

"The thing with Lê Chiến was a once off." He informs her, eyes narrowing. "Leave me alone. I'll leave you alone."

"That's not how it works. See, the way I see it. You're intent on making yourself a nuisance if things don't go your way which officially makes you, my problem. You can't sit on your own all day and mope if someone asks you to play in a team."

The reasonable part of him understands where she's coming from. Although it's still hard to conceive that they couldn't find some way to work around all of this. Simply let him be and assume that he was uninterested in being part of their little circle of friends.

He's not too sure what's brought this on. After their confrontation a few days ago, he had assumed that she would have thought better of trying to get him to turn around. Has one of the teachers set her up to this? It's impossible to say. It's not impossible, given how kind she is that she's reacting to what she saw upon her last visit: that is to say a teenage boy living in what could only be described as a dump in the rough end of town with an ill mother. He thinks back to the events. Convincing himself that it's the likely cause:

"I don't need your sympathy Dupain-Cheng!"

He's not even acting any more. Somehow, she's actually managed to get under his skin.

Brown eyes pick up on Alya frowning disapprovingly, she threatens to come over. That would likely end in a fight. He knows the girl well enough and has heard enough thanks to Nino to know that she is someone best not crossed and is generally ferociously protective of her friend. Curiously however, Marinette raises her hand, signalling the blogger to stand back and that she can handle the situation. The girl's expression is stern when she turns back to face him. She lets him know that there's a line in the sand and that she's the one drawing it.

Disconcerted, he backs down slightly wondering just how much further he can push things before it gets serious. Perhaps, if threats and intimidation aren't working, then it might be time to break out the slightly more diplomatic approach:

"What's it going to take for me to get you off of my back?" He grumbles under her breath, figuring that she must want something from him.

"Some effort..."

The teen raises an eyebrow. He's tempted to try storming away from her but given how stubborn she's proving to be about the matter Adrien's far from convinced it would work. It's also hard for him to envision how he could be any firmer in telling her to get lost without either yelling or getting physical. The latter he'd never do in a million years and the former is liable to turn the entire school, teachers and students alike, into a lynch mob.

Irritated and feeling trapped, he grumbles under his breath. Cursing about how she's making his life a pain and wishes that he's got a thousand better things to be doing right now. Finally however, he lets out a defeated sigh, shoulders slumping slightly:

"What did you have in mind?"

"Easy. Go and apologize to Kim."

"Lê Chiến?" He looks up at her once more, irked. "I've already written an apology letter. If you think-"

"You wrote a letter the board _told_ you to write." She stresses that point. "Kim's not an idiot. Go over to him and give him a genuine apology."

It's not just to stay in character that he finds himself hesitating. Dylan's a jerk. Whether or not he was intended to be before starting the school year, that's what he's become and the boy behind the mask has learned to roll with it. Sometimes it's actually easier to be cruel than it is to be kind.

He hasn't forgotten what he did to his classmate. Whilst Kim had never been one of his closest friends, he certainly wasn't the type that Adrien would ever willingly hurt. Yet… In those few moments of madness, the ones which had seen him attack the lad. It wasn't that he'd felt good about it but it had offered him an escape. A part of him (and he dreaded to ask himself just how dominant that part was) had needed to take out his own suffering on another. Given that he'd gone for pretty much the biggest and toughest lad in their class, it could have been much much worse. What if it had been Nino? Or Marinette? Or Rose?

In truth, he's not entirely sure he can face the boy he attacked. He's afraid that the little voice, the one that whispers madness and that always seems to make his pain worse will resurface and he won't be able to help himself…

Marinette must sense his hesitation as she informs him rather teasingly:

"It's really easy. Look, repeat after me: I'm sorry."

He spends the next five minutes grumbling, arguing and trying to find a way out of it. Marinette is impossibly firm in her resolution. Finally, he caves in. Not taking defeat very gracefully and declaring that it's only so that she'll shut up about the matter and give him some peace!

Dylan makes short work of locating Kim. He's busy chatting with Max and Ondine. They spot him coming a mile off: faces falling and instantly becoming hostile, probably fearing the worse. His intentions are pretty clear, he's obviously coming over towards them. It might be his imagination but he could swear that everything becomes just a little bit quieter. It feels like all eyes are settled upon him, apprehensive. Kim's hands, balled into fists, don't escape his notice. He won't get taken by surprise a second time. He makes a point of stopping short, ensuring that things don't become any more heated than they need to be.

There's a pause. With half the school wondering if they might be about to see round two of Kim Lê Chiến VS Dylan Lebrun. Sucking in a deep breath of air, Adrien finally speaks:

"I apologize… For what I did."

He won't say anything more, leaving it at that. The way that Kim raises his eyebrows, somewhat taken aback, suggests that he wasn't expecting this. Apparently Marinette hadn't briefed him about her intentions. Curious… He fights the urge to look over his shoulder towards where he's certain the teen is watching from. Instead, Dylan stands there. Hands in his pockets, trying to look as indifferent as possible as he awaits a response from the boy he hit only a few days ago. As time trickles by, Adrien narrows his eyes, growing somewhat impatient. What's he waiting for, permission to speak?!

Then, there's a little smile on the other teen's face. It's not a mocking one but none-the-less seems to be amused by the whole situation.

"You pack a mean right punch… No hard feelings here. Just, don't do it again or else I'll be the one kicking your butt."

He gives the teen an "as if" huff of disdain before turning his back and walking off. Enough has been said.

He makes short work of hunting down Marinette. She's waiting for him with a knowing and somewhat teasing smirk which he's torn between finding irritating and somehow – he's not entirely sure how it's possible – endearing. He continues to play the part of the guy who's been strong-armed into all of this and now desperately wants out. He doesn't care that both Nino and Alya are relatively nearby or that whilst the girl is perfectly calm, he looks like a bear with a sore head:

"There! Are we done now?"

"You're kidding right?" His brow furs confirming that he was deadly serious. "Not in the slightest! You've still got a ton of work to do!"

"I have my own life to live..." He grumbles under his breath.

"Yeah, that schedule of mopping around in corners of yours is really time consuming."

He opens his mouth, ready to argue but nothing comes out. He can't actually think of anything to say to that. He must look like an idiot. He's frozen for the period that he tries to come up with some cutting or snide remark. Nothing comes to him. "Shut up" doesn't quite seem to cut it. Evidently, it's a comical expression that he wears as it generates a giggle from the girl who's decided that its her new purpose in life to make his a misery.

To his absolute astonishment, she actually takes him by the arm.

"Come on, you've got seven weeks of being a jerk to make up for! So we've got our work cut out for us!"

Too surprised for words, he allows himself to be lead along, unsure just where on earth this decidedly stubborn teenager thinks this is all going to end...


	19. Parent teacher evening

**_Author's note: Thanks for the reviews! I now present this incredibly imaginatively titled chapter._**

**_/_**

On an interesting note, this is officially the first time that one of his guardians has made it to the parent/teacher evening.

It's a rather more awkward moment than he had initially thought it would be. He can remember that last year he'd practically begged his father to come along. Naturally, the man had refused. He was too busy. That all made some sort of sick sense now… Given how good his grades had been, his teachers had never felt the need to insist that the boy's father or at least one of his associates attended. Now that he's finally been able to convince Nathalie to come along, he's feeling a bit nervous.

Adrien was perfect. At least notionally. His behaviour and grades were generally above reproach. Dylan's… Not so much.

Asides from the obvious issue with his attitude which can at best be considered cold, his grades aren't as good as they once were. That much was planned. Part of Adrien's bargain to attend school was that he had to maintain a certain average or else return to his days of home-schooling. As Dylan, he's under no such obligation. Which isn't to say that Nathalie doesn't ensure that he knows his stuff. She drills him on it most nights and then they go over realistic ways for him to fail certain parts of his test.

It's not as easy to make mistakes in a test as Adrien had initially thought. Mistakes had to be convincing. Whilst in French, he can just make some clumsy errors in grammar or sneak the odd bit of _provencial_ in there and it looks believable, things such as maths are somewhat more complicated. He has to try and ensure that it was possible for the teacher to see where his mistake come from be it forgetting to carry a digit or getting confused by decimal points. It takes a surprising amount of effort. The aim was to ensure that Dylan isn't a brilliant student. He isn't an idiot but he certainly isn't in the top of the class. He is spectacularly mediocre and as a result all the more unremarkable for it.

The slight downside is that he spends most of the evening being informed that he needs to pull his socks up. Most of the teachers are polite about the matter. It's not an experience that he finds particularly pleasant however as he knows full-well that he could easily do better but that he can't allow himself to do so. He doubts that Nathalie is particularly enjoying herself either. Sometimes, there's a distinct tone behind the teacher's voices that seems almost accusatory, as if somehow she should be ensuring that he does his homework… Knowing how hard she works, even if he wasn't obliged to keep up his decidedly mediocre results, it's hard to imagine how the woman could possibly do any more than she already is for him. A few times, Dylan's upper lip twitches a little, a sign of irritation bubbling underneath.

He keeps his cool however if only because Nathalie does.

Only Madame Bustier offers a truly welcoming smile. He does alright in her class. Even if he were failing terribly, it's hard to imagine that the woman would have anything but words of encouragement for him. The subject of his attitude however she does bring up. Adrien's not entirely surprised. She wants a happy class. He gives her the distinct impression that he's unhappy most of the time and that naturally worries a good soul:

"I can imagine it's stressful moving to a big city and changing schools but the other students are really nice. You should try to get to know them."

"I know..." He reluctantly let out, averting his gaze as he slumps in his chair.

"There's got to be one person in that class you can get along with..." Nathalie plays the game.

"Probably..." He's grumpy or at least pretends to be.

He's out a few moments later.

Their last stop is the English teacher. At this point, Dylan is well and truly dejected. Again, he's not acting. He's just fed up of being reminded that he's not doing so well. It feels like they're labelling him a failure where as before Adrien was a success story, the guy everyone wanted to be. It actually probably looks quite realistic the way that he sits there, more slouching than anything else, next to his "mother" whose gaze periodically flickers down to her less than exemplary son. It's plain to see that he's not enjoying himself.

"Cheer up a bit." Nathalie instructs him, elbowing him gently.

"Not you they're talking shit about." He mutters as a response.

They're not alone in the corridor. So they're always acting or are they no longer acting? He can't even tell any more.

Somebody comes out of the classroom accompanied by two parents. Instinctively, Dylan cringes trying to find some shelter behind a somewhat confused Nathalie. He does not want to be bothered right now, already in something of a bad mood. For a moment, he actually thinks that he's succeeded in going undetected. Unfortunately, a few seconds later, a pair of bright blue eyes registered their presence.

"Oh, hi Dylan!"

Alarm bells! Someone is attempting to chat with them.

Both tense up abruptly as if they've just received an electric shock of some manner. They exchange a brief panicked look which they do their best to banish a few seconds later. Sure enough, the entirety of the Dupain-Cheng family is there. All of them wearing that same affectionate and apparently joyful smile. He's not too sure if it's just something they've perfected by working in a bakery and greeting clients but it seems more likely that they're genuinely just nice and normal people, the likes of which he can only wish were his own flesh and blood.

Dylan however is torn. He doesn't like Marinette's attempts to get him to be a better person. He resents the fact that no matter how badly he threats her or that he never calls her by anything other than her surname, she's always got that gentle and sweet smile which seems to contain almost endless patience and kindness. It's decidedly off-putting…

Hm… Tom Dupain-Cheng is a big man. He opts not to be as abrasive. No sense in making a scene and with his 'mother' here too, he'd best behave at least somewhat civilly.

"Hi..." It's monosyllabic but the only thing that he can muster.

"You about done too?" He asks him.

"Just got English left."

"Hi! You must be Dylan's mom!" Sabine comes up enthusiastically to greet her.

"Delphine, yes. That's me."

They try to be normal. Ironically, it's Dylan who is quiet, lukewarmly responding to Marinette's attempts to get him to talk and Delphine who engages in a quite amicable chat with the girl's parents. Inevitably, the adults talk about the two kids nearby as one stubbornly refuses to give up on trying to get the other to respond with more than three syllables. The teen periodically turns to Nathalie, desperately hoping that the woman might have some sort of plan to get them out of this.

Unfortunately, they're stuck. Marinette's all done. They can head home whenever they like but _no_. They're intent on chatting and Delphine's not making any effort to try and chase them off. It's probably only five minutes but the whole time, he feels impossibly awkward. Nobody's recognised him. The thick accent, dyed hair and brown eyes seem to be enough to conceal his identity but still with three people nearby who know him, he's petrified that someone will think that he looks vaguely similar.

"Marinette's said quite a lot about Dylan..."

"Oh yes, he's a handful." Dylan offers her something of a shy smile, the first of the evening.

"I'm a _brêle_, I get it..." The teen mutters frustrated.

"What?" Tom asks turning to the boy's "mother".

"A bum." Nathalie shakes her head disapprovingly. "Which you're not."

Dylan just shrugs. Thankfully, the Dupain-Chengs are gone a few minutes later, allowing him to breathe once more.

English is no different to any of the other sessions. He needs to pull his socks up but isn't doing so poorly that he's going to crash and burn. It's a relief to be out. If nothing else, it's getting cold and dark as they drift into winter. Stepping outside of the building, Adrien checks his watch. It's probably going to be after eight by the time they get home. Thankfully, tomorrow is a weekend. He gets to sleep in on those given that he doesn't have any more schedules or anything better to do with his time any more.

He affords the school one last glance as the two of them set off towards the nearest metro station. They're quiet for a little bit. There's a lot going on in his mind. More than he thought it would upon going into the evening. Still, at least it's over now…

"Hey..." Nathalie speaks softly, in order to draw his attention. "Well done."

Adrien smiles, it's rare that he gets congratulations from the woman. Aware that they've just crossed some sort of obstacle. He can stand in a room and not be recognized as can she. They've both become different people, at least to the outside world. Now they just have to keep it up.


	20. Truth and lies

**_Author's note: Thanks for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

Marinette defies expectations with her insistence when it comes to Dylan Lebrun. He knows that her friends don't understand. Even the teachers seem to be a bit confused by the whole thing. They can see what she's trying to do but it's such an odd task for the girl to have taken upon herself. Nobody can quite figure out just why she's decided that this newcomer so desperately needs her help, especially when he's shown that he doesn't want it.

Dylan grumbles, curses and uses words she doesn't understand if she pushes him too far. Still she holds on, refusing to be brushed off. It's little things. She tries to get him to sit with others. To at the very least say hello. She actually gets him to play in a team during the soccer match. Just what Marinette can use to threaten Dylan so that he does her bidding is anyone's guess. Theories circulate but nobody's entirely sure.

In actual fact, there's nothing evil or malicious going on. Marinette has figured something very simple out: Dylan is all bark and no bite, at least where she's concerned. All she has to do is weather the storm for a bit. Since her presence seems to rub him the wrong way, all she needs do is promise to go away for a little while. It's a strange game and one which some part of Adrien has grown to find almost entertaining. It breaks up the monotony of the day and he can't help but be impressed at just how dedicated the girl is to whatever project she's embarked on. It's strange how much more confident she seems to have become over the summer.

From time to time, Nathalie's little smile resurfaces in his mind from time to time but is quickly dismissed. She doesn't know Marinette all that well. Just how she could have come to such a conclusion is a mystery to him. He's inclined to blame it on some of the lingering effects of the Peacock Miraculous…

Today, she has something a little bit different planned. It's lunchtime and he is forbidden from doing what he usually does which is sit by himself and watch the others from afar. This time, he's got to sit with Marinette and her friends. That is to say, Alya and Nino. He's somewhat more relaxed about the matter than he would have been a few weeks ago. As time passes, he's increasingly convinced that they haven't the faintest clue who they're looking at. Which suits him just fine. He's not careless with his identity but he's not quite as paranoid about it as he once was.

Still, there's a lingering amount of uncertainty as they get their lunch. It manifests itself as a gloominess and reluctance which is rather prevalent in Dylan Lebrun. He watches as the food is dumped on their plates disinterestedly. At this point, it barely even registers that it doesn't taste all that great. He gives the girl to his left something of a pained look, almost as if she's the one about to walk him to the gallows. Her response is to roll her eyes, letting him know that he needs to get his act together:

"Come on! Lets see that smile we've been practising!" The teen requests.

She gets a dubious and somewhat contemptuous raised eyebrow instead. Marinette just shrugs it off, knowing full-well that he'll follow her if he wants to be left alone for the rest of the afternoon.

The way that Nino and Alya are fixing them tells the teen that they're aware of her plan. She must have informed them about it, if not asked for their permission. Dylan grumbles but allows himself to go over to the table and sit down. He does so in as inelegant a manner as possible, almost sulking he drops down next to Nino and the spare seat which Marinette claims. His reaction, as usual, earns a little giggle from the teen:

"I've got to hand it to you girl, I didn't think he'd do it." Alya tells her friend as she watches the teen begin to eat. He wants to get this over and done with as soon as possible.

"Wasn't so hard was it?" Marinette asks him, to which she only receives a glare.

They agree to leave him be. It's progress enough that he's actually sitting there.

It's an opportunity to eavesdrop for a little while. Their discussions haven't changed all that much. Alya's got only a few minutes left before she's due to go and interview someone for the Ladyblog. Nino's going with her. She seems to have gone up in the world and now and requires an apprentice sound technician… Whatever it takes to be able to spend a few more minutes together, Adrien suspects. He tries to keep up a facade of not caring about them. Dylan wouldn't they're nothing more than an annoyance to him. 

Still, when the subject comes back to a certain blonde teen, he can't help but pay attention. The news that the model is apparently in regular contact with Lila is something of a surprise to him and unfortunately not much of one at the same time. They're _practically_ dating… As it turns out, Miss. Rossi also happens to be the person next to be interviewed for the Ladyblog as a personal friend of the hero and someone who had been rescued more than once by her.

As her friends apologize for having to leave so soon, Adrien finds himself wondering if perhaps there was another reason why Marinette was so desperate for him to eat at their table today…

He's surprised that she's not arguing, listing a number of reasons why the girl's tales were unlikely. Instead, Marinette stays where she is, resting her head on her hand as she stirs some of what was supposed to be boiled vegetables around on her plate. He struggles in those few moments not to comment about the matter. Dylan really shouldn't care if the girl who's been driving up the wall this past week suddenly seems a little down. Deep down however Adrien does. So it's a mixture of the two personas who end up speaking:

"What's eating you now Dupain-Cheng?"

"Nothing..." Of course she denies it.

"This about that pal of yours you were talking about? Sebastien Silvestre?"

"Adrien Agreste!" She corrects him. "Seriously what rock have you been living under?!"

"Aurel."

Marinette blinks a couple of times. The way that she looks at him, it's as if she can't quite figure him out. Dylan manages to bear her gaze without complaint. He does so seemingly indifferently. Treating the world with the same odd mix of contempt and boredom as he usually does. He seems to have touched something which almost resembles a nerve. Interesting…

After a few seconds however, the girl shakes her head, the irritation vanishing, replaced instead with that same understanding smile that she always seems to have. It's as if no matter what he does or says, somehow, she's going to be patient with him.

"Not that into fashion, are you?"

"Do I look into fashion?"

He gestures at his clothes, simple, plain and cheap; a far cry from the designer Gabriel brand that he used to wear all the time. In a way, it's a pleasant release to not have to worry about his look all of the time.

Marinette explains to him who Adrien is: a fellow classmate of theirs, a close friend of Nino's who'd moved away suddenly just before summer. It's a brief summary that she gives him but she reasons that it will help him to understand some of the current class dynamics. Since his sudden disappearance, he hasn't really been in contact with his former friends. That, Dylan senses, hurts her. Only Lila has been privileged enough to chat to him, something which she does excessively apparently.

At the end of her tale, Marinette finds a somewhat sceptical Dylan rocking backwards on his chair, almost disinterested. Until he speaks up:

"I dunno… Guy's a jerk if he's only talking to Lilac over there." He nods towards the corner of the cafeteria where the girl is busy being interviewed. "Either that or this is another one of her Nice to Monaco in one night stories..."

Marinette doesn't question his meaning, apparently catching on instantly. Dylan simply raises an eyebrow as if to say: _yeah, I know too… _

He's listened to Lila, it's almost heartbreaking how little she had learned. How many times had she been warned by Ladybug, Cat Noir, Adrien and presumably Marinette? It was a car crash just waiting to happen and he could see a serious akuma coming a mile off. They'd face it one day. He was convinced that with a web of lies as big as the one which she was currently weaving, it was only a matter of time before she got tangled in them. He's content to sit back and watch…

"How did you know?" She's evidently surprised by the revelation.

"I'm a hick, not stupid!" He justifies himself.

"What makes you think I'm not the liar?" She seems uneasy, sceptical maybe, wondering if he might be pulling some kind of mean trick.

"Pff..." He dismisses the concept with a shake of the head. "You're a lot things Dupain-Cheng: stubborn, delusional and insanely annoying but a liar? I don't think so."

"Look… You've got to stay quiet. Lila's super vulnerable to akumatization." The teen explains letting out a heavy sigh. "She's been akumatized like two or three times already! Calling her out on her lies only tends to make things worse. Sooner or later, she'll get caught out by them herself. After all, making a bad guy suffer has never turned them into a good guy."

"What idiot told you that?"

This time, there's no mistaking the anger that flashes across her face. Adrien Agreste, her friend, is definitely a sensitive subject. Curious given that before she's only ever expressed mild annoyance when he's had a go at some of her current classmates. Maybe it's because Adrien isn't around to defend himself…

She must figure that a cold glare will be enough to silence him and it is. He doesn't go any further into the matter, continuing to rock backwards on his chair, seeing just how far back he can push himself before catching himself. He does it a couple of times, musing upon matters as he does so. This whole discussion seems to have troubled his companion somewhat. It wasn't his aim upon setting out...

"Even if for once she was telling the truth..." The teen continues, looking up at the ceiling above him. "So what if Austin is dating Lilac?"

"Adrien and Lila, don't pretend you don't know their names." She scolds him, patience running low. "You're not making any point."

"Don't know them. Don't like them. So I don't need to know their names." He kicks himself back especially far. "My point is what's it to you?"

Somehow, that does quite seem to cheer her up. She's clearly thinking about his words. He gives her a few seconds, turning his attention back towards Lila. He's always assumed that whilst her lies were preposterous, they were mostly harmless. Sure, they gained her quite the army of followers but other than that? Another brief glance towards Marinette confirms his doubts. There's something here that both Adrien and Dylan have somehow managed to miss. The way that she stares into space just doesn't quite seem right…

"Hey." He calls over to her softly. "Want me to go talk to her for you?"

"What?!" The teen plasters her hands over her mouth in order to muffle her own cry. "No! What are you a hitman now?"

"Depends… How long will you leave me alone if Lilac was say to… Trip over her own shoelaces?"

Marinette shakes her head with a mixture of disbelief and perhaps, he dares to hope, some genuine amusement.

One kick sends him a little too far. There's a sudden crack and Dylan finds himself staring up at the ceiling. He lets out a frustrated sigh. Whilst his back is a little bit sore, he can already tell that it's nothing serious. At most, he might have a slight bruise and most of those are going to be on his ego. As the sound of laughter reaches his ears, he finds himself closing his eyes trying to forget that he just toppled over in front of half of the school. There goes his reputation and credibility… Marinette of course is standing next to him, perhaps a little more concerned to ensure that he's not hurt himself. He opens one eye just a little crack to peer up at her. She meets him with a gentle smile:

"You're a case..." The teen reaches down, offering him a hand.

"And you still won't leave me alone?"

Once more, she shakes her head, confirming that she's one pest he's going to struggle to shake off. He considers her hand. He doesn't need it to pick himself up. Tentatively however, he finds himself reaching up, taking her hand. She pulls him up off of his back. He stands up by himself however, dusting himself off. There's a certain teasing look in her eye as she contemplates him before explaining:

"I'm a babysitter, it's served me well."


	21. Overpowered

**_Author's note: Thanks for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

It's mid-November when Ms. Mendeleiev calls him over at the end of class. His grades are poor and need to be pulled up. Thankfully, there's someone in the class they've approached and she's more than willing to help.

Why's he not surprised when he sees Marinette standing there?

She has a little study group going apparently. Whilst they can't force him to attend, it's strongly recommended that he does. Faced with the prospect of losing what little sympathy he has from the teacher for not putting any effort in and Marinette following him around even more, he agrees.

That's how he ends up in this strange situation, in the Dupain-Cheng bakery, specifically the youngest member's bedroom. He had rather been expecting a more mixed group of individuals: Nino, Ivan, maybe Kim or Max… Not all girls. He happens to be the only guy in the room and is immediately put off. He spots Marinette, Alya, Rose, Juleka and Alix. A part of Adrien really doesn't care. On the other hand, he's instantly suspicious. This smells to him like some kind of plot. He can remember sometimes interacting with the other boys in his class the previous year, they would sometimes talk about how the girls liked to group together and scheme. At the time, he'd brushed if off as paranoia. Now, faced with a wall of curious faces, he's not too sure.

He tries to act as nonchalantly as possible, dumping the school bag he had slung over his shoulder unceremoniously onto the ground.

"Hey!" As always, Marinette greets him enthusiastically. "Good to see you made it!"

"It was that or fail chemistry..." Dylan mutters giving another uneasy glance around the room. "We going to get started?"

"We started 20 minutes ago after we got bored of waiting for you to arrive!" Alya informs him, not quite as patiently as her friend.

"Dylan lives right at the other end of town." The baker's daughter informs them. "You guys know how bad the metro can be."

"I've known cows to travel better." He declares settling down.

As soon as he gets the opportunity, he sends Nathalie a text. He figures that she might be able to get him out of this one. She's clever like that. Good at coming up with excuses and ways out of problems. It's a Saturday morning, she doesn't have work. That means that in theory, it shouldn't take her long to answer.

_10.34 AM : Hey, I need your help._

_10.34 AM : What's wrong?_

_10.35 AM : I'm at Marinette's. It's all girls here._

He has to stop for a few moments whilst Marinette does her best to explain the principles of ions to him. Again, he knows this. Physics/chemistry was one of his better subjects in school. Trust Nathalie to have him struggle with the subjects that Adrien was somewhat good at and be decent in those which had bored or frustrated the teen. He plays the part, grumbling that this stuff's never going to be much use to him in the real world but slowly getting to grips with the exercises they've been given none-the-less.

He manages to glance back down at his phone a few minutes later.

_10.35 AM : Am I supposed to be concerned?_

_10.48 AM : There's a lot of them. I didn't sign up for this!_

Periodically, there's a break in the studying for some chatting and that's what's bothering him. In some ways, he can see similarities between what the girls and boys would talk about. In all honesty though he's really not all that interested in how Ivan and Mylène's relationship is doing. Apparently, it's going well. Good for them. Does it really warrant a ten minute discussion?! He tries his best to ignore those parts and to bury himself in his work, reasoning that the sooner he finishes the sooner he can get out of the door.

Nathalie is less than sympathetic.

_10.50 AM : You're getting bullied by a skinny 5 foot tall girl, that's what you're saying?_

_10.57 AM : What do you want me to do? Punch her in the face?!_

_11.02 AM : I have better things to do with my time than read about your insecurities._

She will be of no assistance. That much is evident from the increasing length of time between her texts. If she thought the matter was serious or urgent, she would be replying much faster. He'd seen her tap: be it on a keyboard, a tablet or a mobile, her fingers can move like grease lightning when required. If she's being quiet it's because this is beneath her level of contempt. She's made it clear that she doesn't want to be involved with any teenage melodrama. This must be pushing things a bit far.

He can feel Plagg inside his pocket. The kwami isn't much help either. He seems to find all of this decidedly amusing and a bit ridiculous.

His phone vibrates once more:

_11.05 AM: Have fun whilst they braid your hair!_

Now he's certain she's making fun of him.

Defeated, Dylan slips his phone back into his pocket. The others are discussing what questions are likely to come up in the brevet. Alya's checking the previous years' exams to see what they were like. Opinions are torn between "that doesn't sound too bad" and "oh God we're doomed!". For his part, the boy's not all that concerned. The brevet, Nathalie assures him, is largely to ensure that kids can read, write and have a basic grasp of how the world around them is held together. The Bac is somewhat more of a challenge but one he needn't face for a good few years yet.

He grows a little bit bored. Marinette's occasional attempts to bring him into the conversation are met with either failure or exasperation:

"Do you keep in touch with your friends down south?" She asks him.

"Kind of."

"What about a girlfriend?" Rose questions, genuinely curious.

He doesn't even answer that one.

The teen finds his gaze travelling around the girl's room. It hasn't changed all that much since he was last here. There are more photos. She seems to have a wall of them with her classmates. It's cute really. He might have done the same back in his own room at the mansion. In his new life however, he can't afford such things. He's not meant to be that close to them. His attention falls on a notebook or rather a sketchbook. He's seen it before. It's where she keeps all of her designs and projects.

Boredom makes him nosy, prompting him to pick it up. He gives it a quick flick through. It's good to see that her talent hasn't somehow vanished. A good yardstick in terms of the fashion world was if Gabriel Agreste liked something. He knows from personal experience that his father was a very difficult man to please. Yet Marinette Dupain-Cheng had succeeded where some of the world's finest had failed...

"Hey!" He's snapped out of his musing by Marinette's voice. "A little privacy?!"

"I'm just curious." He defends himself, again playing the "not bothered by anything" card.

"Put it down Dylan!" Alix is rather more assertive.

He gives them a challenging look. Sitting back in his seat, intent on playing the same role that he usually does. The Cat Noir side of him gets a certain kick out of winding Marinette out. He never pushes things too far, able to sense when the irritation is edging towards actual anger. Unfortunately, she's clever enough to realize that if she gets mad, she ends up playing his game. Her friends aren't quite so accustomed to dealing with him.

As such, seeing that he's refusing to relinquish the sketchbook, Alix gets to her feet. Alix is exactly the sort of person who shouldn't be mixed with Dylan. All it takes is one spark and the powder could go up. Adrien, who knows the girl, is fully aware that he doesn't stand a chance. He leans back in his chair, relying on his superior height to try and keep the book away from her. She struggles and he fails spectacularly, overreaching himself and tumbling backwards.

There's a massive crash and for the second time in only a few weeks, he finds himself looking up at the ceiling. Alix doesn't care. She's quick to realize he isn't seriously hurt and even faster to take the sketchbook from him. He lies there for a few moments before eventually muttering:

"Ow..."

"What's it with you and chairs?" There's a slight tease behind Marinette's question.

"I don't like them." An increasingly true statement.

"How have you not been akumatized yet?" Ayla's enquiry isn't entirely a joke.

"Five more minutes of this and I might be..."

Marinette just rolls her eyes. At this point, he's pretty much convinced that she thinks he's at best strange. Alix is quick to hand the sketchbook back to her. She flicks through it, somewhat mindlessly. Perhaps checking to make sure it hasn't been damaged. There's a call from her parents downstairs, eager to ensure that no one was hurt. A book was dropped. They inform them. A very dense book. She looks back to him a second later, seemingly somewhat bemused by his attitude.

"You could have asked you know." She informs him. "There's nothing secret in there."

"Could have fooled me." He winces rubbing the back of his head.

"It's the principle."

"So what, you're a fashion designer or something?"

She just shrugs, too modest to tell the truth. He struggles to hold back a slight smile at that. Adrien knew how talented she was. Dylan does not. So he's forced to simply sit there on the floor and look confused whilst the others start talking.

He tries to appear disinterested as if he's drifted back into whatever brooding world he spends so much time in. In actual fact, the teen pays a careful ear to what's being said. There's another contest coming up in the school it would seem. A fairly prestigious one given that it's being judged by Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale. Jackets, not hats this time. Marinette's got the designs, everything's right apart from one thing: someone to model it. Someone with a fair amount of free time and the right body-type…

Suddenly all eyes are on him.

"No way."

"Hey, come on…" Mylène looks to the others for support. "You're just the right size and shape."

"Have Lê Chiến help you!"

"Kim's already helping Chloe."

"It's the least you can do to repay Marinette for all the time she's spending trying to keep you out of trouble and helping you with your schoolwork!"

The teen pauses. A part of him does want to be talked into it. Another however is weary. Whilst people might not recognise him right now, that doesn't mean he can afford to be reckless. Modelling was something that Adrien did. The idea of creating that parallel to be drawn between them isn't an appealing one.

Right now however, he has another problem. They're going to be wondering just why his objections are so strong. He could refuse flat out on the grounds that he would ridicule himself but doesn't that run the risk of making him stand out even more. He wishes that Nathalie were here to help him. She could think about such matters with a clear head and help point him in the best direction. Adrien is lost however and looks decidedly panicked at their request. Only Marinette doesn't insist. If anything, her soft gaze only seems to say: _don't if you don't want to_.

Somehow, that only makes things harder for him.

"Two weeks." He lets out eventually.

"What?" Marinette raises an eyebrow.

"It's how long you're going to have to leave me alone for if I agree to this."

"The two weeks after the contest? Done."

She comes over to him, offering her hand. He contemplates it somewhat dubiously before taking it. They shake. Her friends watch, looking between the two of them somewhat uncertainly. Marinette is confident around him. She seems to know where she stands and even, perhaps a little worryingly, what's going through his head or at least what he needs. There's something of a mischievous smile that she's wearing however. It's a little unsettling.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a deal, Dupain-Cheng."

"A very beneficial deal for me." Oh… That doesn't sound good.

"What… Do you mean?" He asks uncertainly, the others are smiling, they've caught on.

"Contest's on the 20th of December." Oh. Alya spells it out for him anyway. "The next two weeks are vacation."

Dylan lets out a frustrated sigh much to the amusement of the girls. He can hear Plagg's laughter coming from his sweater, only just muffled. Somewhat defeated. Dylan eventually returns to his books but not before taking out his mobile and trying one last desperate plea.

_11.42 AM : Please rescue me._

_11.42 AM : No. _


	22. Face to face

**_Author's note: Thanks again for the reviews. All advice is welcome._**

**_/_**

December rolls around surprisingly quickly.

Dylan spends quite a lot of time at Marinette's place. She needs to get all the proper measurements so that the jacket fits _just right_. Of course, Adrien's been here before. He's spent hours having his clothes tailor made for him in preparation for his father's next line to be displayed at one fashion show or another. He has to play his experience down. He fidgets from time to time, arranges things so that he gets pricked by a the occasional pin and has to have Marinette train him in the basics of a catwalk – because otherwise he'd go down with his hands in his pockets and drag his feet the whole way.

The young man obliges more or less begrudgingly. Marinette makes for unusual company. She probably thinks that he doesn't particularly want to be here, unaware that part is all part of some act, a constructed plan to try and make it seem like Dylan needs no one. Adrien is somewhat grateful for the company. He can't afford to open up. Letting the girl see even a single kink in his armour could very well lead to the floodgates getting opened. He's not about to take that chance. So, if she ever decides to ask a question that hits a little too close to home or he considers to be somewhat intrusive, he doesn't reply. Contenting himself with giving her a warning look which tells him not to go there.

She's asking those questions less and less frequently.

It's the day before the scheduled junior fashion show and he's seeing a side to Marinette he's a little more accustomed to dealing with. She's nervous, constantly tinkering with the most minute of details. It's irritating in a different way to what he's accustomed to: he can see that it's finished and that it's good. Very good in fact. He won't be surprised if she wins. Yet everyone except for the designer herself can see that. He spends half an hour watching her tending to the string of one of the buttons before rolling his eyes and telling her:

"I think you can stop now, busy bee..."

"Yeah… I know." She puts the needle and thread down. "Sorry. I can get a little nervous sometimes."

"I hadn't noticed."

He should get going. The sun has set and Nathalie will be beginning to wonder just where on Earth he's gotten off to. These "study sessions" might not have been all that frequent in the scheme of things but enough for her to ask him if there was anything else going on. He'd denied it. Explaining some of the situation to her but neglecting to mention the whole "modelling" aspect. She would object and this far along, he doesn't want to have to start coming up with excuses for just why he's suddenly dropping out.

Marinette's done a bit later, folding the jacket neatly away into a box where it shall remain until tomorrow, at least in theory. He wouldn't put it past her to get the thing out at 3 AM and start altering it.

"Thanks for all this. I know it's not exactly your idea of fun."

"Well, it beats chemistry but given how much time I've spent here, I'd say I got the rotten side of that deal."

"You sure did. Maybe next time you'll think first..." Her voice trails off for a moment before she gets out a little bakery box. Tentatively she offers it to him. "I know it's not much but just to say thanks."

A little surprised, he opens the box to discover 24 macaroons.

Macaroons are expensive, time consuming to make and quite complicated to boot. There's a variety of colours each a different flavour. She must have spent a fair amount of time preparing them. Dylan looks up, surprised and not quite sure what to say. This hadn't been part of the deal. Eventually, he mutters a quiet but sincere "thank you" before leaving.

Nathalie is pleasantly surprised by the gift, expressing some confusion as to just what he'd done to warrant it. Adrien plays dumb. He hasn't told the woman about what he's going to do tomorrow and he feels somewhat guilty for that. He's convinced that she would freak out. Marinette's a good kid. It's coming up to Christmas, that's just the sort of thing that she'd do. She's not entirely convinced but evidently decides to let it slide.

The following day, he turns up on time for the contest.

There's a surprising amount of people present. It's not just the students and teachers but the press as well. Instantly, he regrets agreeing to this. It's far too great a risk. Perhaps if he explains things to Marinette, then she'll be able to find someone to cover for him. He could claim illness or a fear of crowds. Anything if it would ensure that he doesn't have to risk exposing his true identity out there. Plagg seems to think that he's overreacting.

"They've not recognized you yet! Why would they start now? Besides, if you drop out now, it's just going to look all the more suspicious."

He can see some of the logic in the kwami's argument. On the other hand, he knows that Plagg can be reckless sometimes and isn't always all that good at recognizing danger when it's present, generally downplaying it.

It takes him a little while to find Marinette, eventually being spotted by Ms. Bustier beforehand and escorted to where the aspiring fashion designer is waiting. The way that she is peering out from behind a curtain, nervously eyeing the crowd confirms that this isn't another trick, she's just as surprised as he is by the turnout. He approaches carefully, so that he can stand there and take in all of the faces just the same as she is. He stands there for a few moments, wondering just what could account for so many visitors for what is in essence a teenage fashion display. It's likely to be the names of Jagged stone and Clara Nightingale which have caused many to flock here.

"I didn't expect so many..."

Apparently she hadn't been aware of his presence judging by the alarmed shout that she lets out, jumping several feet into the air. That's a little more like the girl that he used to know…

Marinette is met with a bemused roll of the eyes and shake of the head from the teen. She regains her composure a few seconds later. Asking him politely not to sneak up on others like that. It's clear that she's anxious. Adrien finds himself hesitating. There are two voices in his head: one that's screaming to get out of here while he still can and the other which is more inclined to believe Plagg. He ends up standing there, undecided… He's almost grateful that Alya turns up a few seconds later so as to give her friend some words of encouragement. At least that's what he assumes she wants at first, then he notices how plain old excited she looks.

"Girl, you're never going to believe it..."

"What?" The apprehension behind Marinette is palpable.

"Gabriel Agreste is here!"

In a flash, Adrien's blood turns cold. Gabriel Agreste? Here?

He assumes that he must have misheard. His father never left the mansion. Outside of a few very select occasions that was. Coming to an event such as this would have been considered degrading by the proud man. Yet now he turned to the crowd, he could see that there was some commotion. Mr. Damocles was eagerly shaking hands with a terrifyingly familiar figure.

It was impossible to avoid Gabriel Agreste. The man is a celebrity, a world renowned fashion designer and icon… Naturally, Adrien had come across the man in news articles or magazines but this is the first time in months that he's actually laid eyes on the figure. He looks a bit paler and thinner than the teen could recall, no doubt a result of some of the stress he must be under. Standing there, shaking hands, he looks well and truly out of place. This isn't the same camera shy and reclusive man his son remembers.

A mixture of terror and instinct take over.

He's not thinking. Every fibre in his body screams at him that he's in trouble and needs to run. If he wants to live, he has to get as far away from this place as possible. The teen backs away, his eyes fixed solely on the crowd outside and in particular on the figure of his parent. His heart is beating like a drum in his chest. It's not Gabriel that he sees there but rather Hawk Moth.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Alya questions reaching out to try and stop him before he backs into something.

"Get away from me!"

Brought back into reality brutally and fearful, he snaps. Whilst he might have attempted to swat Alya away, the girl has good enough reflexes to avoid him. His hand only meets air. Both girls appear to be startled by his sudden outburst. There's a slightly wild look in his eye which is off-putting and for a while, nobody's too sure how to react.

It looks as if Alya might be about to yell, to ask him just what his problem is. A brief look from Marinette seems to dissuade her of that notion however. She excuses herself, wishing her friend good luck before going to join the others in the crowd. The show has begun and some of the first few jackets are being paraded up and down. They only have a few minutes if that and right now, Adrien's mind is unable to process things clearly enough to explain himself. Instead, he just stands there like a deer in headlights.

The remaining girl moves slowly, approaching cautiously. She eyes him uncertainly, obviously aware that something is troubling him:

"Next up-" The voice calls out over the speakers. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng's creation."

"What's wrong?" She ignores the call.

"Crowds..." It's the first thing that pops into his head. His mouth is dry. "I don't like crowds."

"Claustrophobic, huh? You should have said."

He's pretty sure it's not called claustrophobia or maybe it is, it doesn't matter. He's surprised that she isn't angry. This is something important for her. It's an event which could easily influence her future career and the boy she's trusted to help her with it has suddenly decided to play up mere minutes before he's supposed to go on stage. Instead of rage however he finds that same seemingly endless patience behind her eyes. She lets out a soft sigh, slightly disappointed but still somehow manages to keep a faint smile.

"It's okay. I'll ask someone else to-"

They're out of time. It's Fred Harprèle who comes down looking for them. He asks just what they're playing at but doesn't give either a time to explain. Dylan is lead away, more or less shoved out in front of the crowd. Behind her, he can see Marinette a mixture of horrified and startled. Acting quickly, he slips his hands into his pockets, concealing his ring to the best of his ability.

The rest is a blur. He steps out on stage and the rest of the world fades away. He can feel his heart beating. There's commotion and flashes, presumably from cameras. Time loses its meaning. He acts mechanically, walking quickly and pausing only briefly.

The next thing he knows he's back with Marinette. She's staring at him with wide eyes. He's turned a little bit pale and he can tell that his fear is visible. Finally, he breathes and everything seems to make sense once more. It takes him a few seconds to realize that he's actually shaking. His companion is obviously concerned, ushering him over to a nearby bench so that he can recover. He sits there, hunched over and head hung low. Next to him, the teenager girl fidgets slightly, looking around for some form of assistance, obviously taken back and uneasy with the current situation.

"You okay? Do you want me to call the nurse or something?" She asks after a few seconds.

"No. No nurse." He's formal about that much.

"I'm so sorry..." She tells him.

"Of course you are." He frowns, growing slightly more hostile. "Don't mention this Dupain-Cheng. I'm serious."

"No… Of course not."

He's rather hoping that she'll leave him alone. He needs some time to think. Ideally, now that it's done, he wants to ditch the jacket and run on back home and try and forget that any of this just happened. Marinette however isn't about to abandon him. She sits on the ground near to him but says nothing. Her gaze is focused upon him. He doesn't object and instead focuses on trying his best to recover some of his composure.

Did Gabriel see him? Of course he would have seen him but did he see Adrien or Dylan? The teen had made a point of not searching for the man during the few seconds that he was on stage. That would have inevitably have drawn some attention. All he can do is sit there and pray. Time trickles by. The announcer calls out more names due to display their creations but they are lost on the two teens behind the scenes. It's a reminder of everything he stands to lose should he ever be discovered.

He takes the jacket off, handing it back to its creator. She takes it back gratefully.

"I'm going home." It's not something to be discussed.

"Dylan-" She begins somewhat uncertainly.

"Do me a favour and don't drag me into any more of your fashion projects, okay?"

"I'm really sorry. It's just tha-"

"Marinette!"

There's a voice that sends a shiver down his spine. He recognises it instantly but doesn't dare to turn around to see just who it is. 

In those few seconds, Adrien realizes that his life – and potentially Marinette's as well – will depend on just how convincing hair dye and contacts are. He turns around to face his father. The man is coming towards them, somewhat nonchalantly. By his side is a younger man whom he's never seen before, he seems to be struggling fumbling over paperwork and uttering something about meetings. Nathalie's replacement no doubt…

Dylan looks unimpressed, wondering just who this guy is to disturb them. Next to him, Marinette smiles struggling her best to conceal both her nerves and the awkwardness of the current situation.

"Mr. Agreste… It's an honour sir."

"Please." The man gives her an uncharacteristically warm smile. "None of that. I'm afraid I can't stay long, I simply wanted to congratulate you on another superb creation."

"Thank you sir." She blushes.

"And you young man, I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

"Dylan Lebrun."

He speaks as calmly as possible, sounding vaguely disinterested. It will annoy Gabriel, convince him that he's dealing with just another "teenage delinquent". Sure enough, he receives a gold glare from the man.

Thankfully, he seems to be more interested in dealing with Marinette for the moment. They chat about the design of the jacket, where she got her inspiration from and what she was planning to do after the end of the year in terms of further education. Dylan's gone numb, the Adrien side of him retreating as far away as possible so as to not have to be in the presence of his father. The teen begins to fidget slightly, becoming bored with the conversation quite rapidly at least to the outside world. In reality, he wants to run but finds himself trapped by his own disguise.

"My son wanted me to inform you that he misses you and his friends very much..."

No he didn't…

The man leaves a few seconds later and Dylan follows suit.

He doesn't give Marinette so much as a second glance. It's clear that she's both hurt and sorry for the way that things turned out. Right now, he doesn't care. He's angry and scared and there's only one person in the world who can help him.

The next thing he knows he's back in the flat. The metro ride home followed by the walk and the rain pelting down fail to even register, even as he steps inside dripping wet. He stands there for a moment. Being back inside the walls of the apartment which has become his home reminds him of that very first night when he first ran. Lost in his own thoughts, it's difficult to get his father's face, his father's voice from out of his head. Nathalie breaks off from peeling some potatoes to come over, her expression grave:

"What happened?"

The woman doesn't need to be told, instantly sensing that something is off.

He tells her. Tells her everything. How things had gone downhill in a matter of seconds to Gabriel suddenly showing up behind the stage. The woman listens carefully, aware of the seriousness of the situation. Yet she doesn't panic. She stands there and lets him finish. There's no urgency, nor does she seem to be planning how they're either going to have to run or fight. It's somewhat off-putting for the shaken teenager who finishes his tale none-the-less.

When he's finished, her words are surprisingly comforting:

"Relax. If he knew it was you, the last thing he would want is for you to run back here and tell me. We most certainly wouldn't be having this conversation."

He takes her word for it, unable to argue or perhaps simply unwilling to do so. He supposes she's right. Hawk Moth is alone. He wouldn't want his enemies to be able to regroup. For the time being, he's going to assume they're safe. Dylan's disguise seems to be surprisingly effective.

Gradually, the feeling is returning to his body. He's still a bit numb however as he collapses on the couch. Nathalie heads back to the kitchen, the rest of her interrogation is carried out whilst she continues to prepare tonight's stew. She asks a few questions like what prompted him to come up to them, if he was alone. There's one thing which seems to trouble her however, more so than anything else. It prompts her to ask him to repeat something he's already made perfectly clear:

"He was there in person?"

"In person!" The teen insists on that one single fact.

"He's looking for you or Ladybug, perhaps both. My best guess is he doesn't trust his new helper to do the job for him."

"The guy did seem scatter-brained." Adrien agrees.

"Your father probably doesn't want anyone with a decent amount of neurons anywhere near him..."

Then she gets angry. Nathalie's a bit strange like that. She seems to be on a timer. No doubt it's years of organising his father's schedules which have caused her develop a habit of prioritizing her moods along with everything else.

She reminds him that they can't keep secrets from each other. She has to more or less know where he is at all times and vice-versa. Otherwise, should one get into trouble, the other can't help. Then there's the matter of putting himself on show. She gives him of the benefit of the doubt that he didn't actually intend to parade in front of so many people and that had he had the choice, he would have backed out of it. Still, he's lectured about just why it's imperative that he avoids such things like the plague. Cameras and catwalks were Adrien's thing. Dylan can't have any part in them. He suspects that it's the fact that he decided not to inform her about the whole event which is the more irritating to the woman.

She leaves him be eventually. It's never anything other than unpleasant to have one of them angry with the other in such a small space. It's impossible to escape. He sits there, thinking over the day's events and regretting each and every one of them. It's one of those times he wishes he could either relive it to do things over again or failing that, erase it from his memory. There's not one thing, he believes he did right. It's as he's mulling over everything that's happened, ashamed that he suddenly cries out, startled by something that's only just registered;

"Hey! What happened to the couch?!"

He's not too sure what's worse. The fact that he's only just noticed or that he's noticing at a time like this.

This isn't his usual smelly half-rotten couch. How he'd managed to sit down here without noticing it. He doesn't think it's new. There's some traces of wear on the fabric but it's definitely in better condition to the sofa he's been sleeping on for the past few months. Astonished both he and Plagg inspect what they've been sitting on. He ends up wondering if he's going mad. How could this thing have appeared here like this so suddenly?! It takes a few seconds for him to get a response.

"My Christmas bonus came in." She informs him turning away from the pot. "I was tired of being greeted with your bare feet hanging down every time I woke up..."

He looks back at the couch, confused. If anything, this one seems to be a bit shorter than the one he was used to. Nathalie comes over. She gestures for him to get up. He obliges still not entirely sure what's going on. She bends down, pulling something out from underneath. In a few seconds, everything becomes clearer as the sofa unfolds turning into a bed proper. It's still not huge but more than enough for him to lie on fully as opposed to having to wear socks for fear of his toes freezing off.

Stunned, he can only stare. He's never complained about his sleeping arrangements. Beggars can't be choosers after all. He's grown though over the course of the past few months. He's not comfortable and the smell is unpleasant. The prospect of actually being able to turn over in his sleep is an appealing one.

Adrien acts on impulse. The emotion of the day taking over. He reaches out and wraps his arms around the woman's waist, pulling her in for a hug. The woman tenses up as if someone's just run an electric current through her. She gasps, evidently surprised and not entirely sure how to respond. Any previous attempts to give the woman a hug have been met with refusal. He caught her off-guard this time or maybe just the time spend together has brought her around. It takes her a few seconds to push him away but she does so gently.

"Quite enough of that..." She tells him, her hand lingering on his shoulder for a few seconds. "You've had a big day."

He nods slowly. For a few seconds, he fears that a few tears might be about to trickle down his cheeks. They don't come however as he casts his gaze back out the window. The regret and fear is still there, lingering but for the time being, the promise of a warm bed to sleep in is enough to ward them off.


	23. Bearings

**_Author's note: Thanks for the reviews! Carlotavs hopefully the answer to your question will become clear in the coming chapters._**

**_/_**

Half-way through the Christmas vacation, he's restless.

It's a strange Christmas that they've had. Even in the Agreste household, it had been a merry time of the year. It even tended to bring out the best in even his father. To be fair however, this is the first time that he's tried celebrating on the run with his father's assistant in a flat held together with staples, tape and goodwill. They do their best: some second-hand decorations and the world's wonkiest Christmas tree do provide a certain atmosphere.

Their exchange of gifts is a basic one. They have little to no money to spare. Adrien buys her a pen, a nice one. It's hard to know what else she would like. She seems grateful. In return, he also gets a pen, again a nice one. It's been Nathalie's present by default for almost as long as he's known her. They also invest in a proper table and chairs which makes the turkey dinner somewhat more sophisticated than their previous meals around the coffee table have been. Slowly but surely, this place is becoming more liveable.

It's a few days later now and something's not quite right. He can't put his thumb on it but the end result is he's daydreaming and getting thrashed at cards by both Nathalie and Plagg. It's gotten to the stage where he's not even too sure what game they're playing any more, poker, black jack, bridge? All he knows is that he's losing embarrassingly badly.

"You can't play that card." Nathalie reminds him seeing his latest attempt at a move.

"Huh?"

"Have you forgotten the rules again, kid?" His kwami asks torn between mockery and concern.

"No… I just-"

How to describe what he's currently feeling? He doesn't understand it himself. It's like there's something missing, something not quite right. The teen can trace the feeling back to a few weeks ago, when he had first laid eyes upon his father. Initially, he assumes that it's all to do with the shock of seeing the man again. As the days past and it becomes increasingly clear that Gabriel doesn't know where they're hiding, Now he's not too sure just what the problem is. It's eating away at him, preventing him from finding peace.

"Can we go out?" He requests somewhat suddenly.

"Anywhere in particular?"

"Just… Out..."

Nathalie isn't all that bothered. She shrugs and accepts to come along.

The centre of town promises to be nice with all of the Christmas lights still on. So they hop on a bus. Plagg is nestled in to his inside pocket. It's cold out. A few flakes of snow periodically float down from the sky above. They settle, forming a light power on the ground. It likely won't stick around for long but the dying daylight causes the temperatures to plummet and as a result, there's always just about half an inch on the ground.

They hop off somewhere near the Louvre. The streets are surprisingly quiet. A mixture of the decidedly chilly weather and the time of the year means that there aren't many people about. It's pleasantly quiet in that respect. They walk in silence. He's not too sure why his guardian agreed to this. Nathalie is not a big fan of the cold. She's never told him that much. It's just something he's pieced together from the way that she walks, hands in the pockets of her coat and shelters from the wind as best as she can by pulling up her scarf so that it wraps her neck as much as humanly possible. If she's originally from the south, she might not have had to endure bad winters, the teen reasons.

They stop from time to time in order to admire the sights. The Eiffel Tower sparkles in the distance as they walk along the right bank of the Seine before crossing over to head along the left. Maybe they both needed a change of scenery, a chance to breathe. Whatever the case, he feels himself relaxing ever-so-slightly, up until a point at least...

The Dupain-Cheng bakery shines brightly. Bakers don't get much time off. Through its windows, he can make out Tom busy preparing some of the loaves for tomorrow whilst his wife greets customers warmly. It takes the teen a few seconds of staring before he spots Marinette with them. They look like such the perfect family: comfortable, relaxed in one another's presence and truly enjoying the proximity. He feels a slight pang of jealousy. What he wouldn't give to be in her place…

Jealousy and something else… She'd been kind to him and he pushes her away all the time. He's tried to convince himself that it's for her good. She can't afford to get too close to Adrien Agreste, even if she doesn't know it's him, at least not in an emotional sense. She's proven to be a little hard to shake off. He's also aware that she's a reminder of everything he lost and notionally can't afford to have any longer. There's every single reason in existence for him to keep his distance from her and yet…

There's something about the hurt expression she'd worn the last time they'd seen each other that he's unable to shake from his mind. It feels like hurting this person, even if it's necessary, is some unforgivable sin. It haunts him more than it should. It's like there's something somehow which draws him back to her. Maybe it's the determination, the refusal to give up on what any one else would consider to be a lost cause… How long had he spent longing for someone to extend a hand like that to him after his mother had disappeared?

"Dylan, we can't stay here all night." It's Nathalie's voice which shakes him from his thoughts.

"Yeah…" There's a muffled complaint from inside his jacket and a small head pops out to greet him. "I'm freezing my tail off."

"Right… Sorry..."

They don't actually go that far, only to a local cafe. They sit by the window. Adrien sips at some hot chocolate whilst Nathalie orders a mulled wine. There's a certain silence between them. The teen's mind is elsewhere. Torn between his old home, the school and the bakery. He manages to slip Plagg a small piece of cheese, enough to reward the kwami for putting up with the cold weather and to give him some strength for the journey back home (not to mention to ensure that he doesn't complain about being denied sustenance whilst they help themselves).

The teen turns back towards his guardian. Her eyes haven't been fixed outside as his were but seem rather more content to look at the contents of her glass as she stirs it listlessly, moving the orange slowly. He fixes her for a few seconds before finally asking in a quiet voice, as if the question itself is forbidden:

"If you were me, what would you do?"

"It's not my life." The woman responds somewhat coolly. "The only thing I want is for you not to put yourself or me in any danger."

"Can I though?- I don't know if I want to be her friend or anyone else's. I'm so afraid that they might get hurt." He confesses glancing back towards the bakery, its lights still visible. "People are complicated… Dylan Lebrun can't be close to them, I mean, he doesn't like others."

Nathalie pauses, considering his words carefully. She takes a sip of her drink. She seems to hesitate for a few seconds. Her expression changes slightly. It's neither stern nor soft, lost somewhere in between. The woman has a very slight nervous tick and that's to tuck some of her loose hair behind her left ear – maybe that was why she always wore it tied back when she was working for his father, the teen theories. She doesn't look back to him as she speaks:

"I'm not the best person to talk to this sort of stuff about. As you've probably noticed, I'm not exactly a social type." She's right there. Adrien's not even sure if she has a social circle. "All that I can say is that I know two boys who change a great deal when they're around certain people."

"For the better?"

"I think only one of us knows the answer to that." The woman lets out a sigh. "I know that you're afraid. You want my honest opinion? I don't think that you're going to make it through your life by yourself. You're someone who needs others. Isolating yourself is maybe safer but the question is whether or not you think you can keep it up and come out unscathed on the other side."

"This isn't about me-?"

"Isn't it? What we're doing isn't what's best for others."

The teen frowns, confused. Nathalie glances around uncertainly. It's both quiet and noisy in the bar. Whilst there are quite a few patrons gathered around the centre, sitting on stools and laughing with the owner.

She evidently considers that it's not worth the risk, paying the bill instead and heading back out into the snow. They don't head that far. Heading down onto the empty docks. There isn't a soul around. Well, asides some homeless people taking shelter under a bridge, he can see the dim light from the fire they've managed to light. The winds have picked up and swirl around now, nipping at any exposed skin. They've driven everyone else off, allowing the two of them to speak calmly together. Nathalie is quick to pick up from where she was before:

"Think about it: we're not acting, not directly. If we wanted, we could easily go to the authorities and end all of this. Your father's powerful but he can't take on an army single handedly."

"You think we should tell someone?" The teen asks quietly, thoughtfully.

"We could." It's not the clear answer he was hoping for. "We might even walk out clear and avoid getting arrested ourselves."

"We wouldn't-"

"You wouldn't." She corrects him, frowning. "I'm a legal adult. In theory, I should have gone to the police as soon as this all started. Right now, I'm probably guilty of aiding and abetting a criminal, abduction of a minor, obstruction of justice and at least a dozen other offences."

"I'd vouch for you."

The woman shakes her head, silently dismissing the notion as absurd.

Adrien's never given much thought to the legal implications of what they're doing. He's sure that Nathalie will have. She'll have worked it all out before embarking on such an endeavour. Yet another thing that perplexes him about her. More than once, he's brought up the subject up with her. It seems that she's been taking insane risks for quite a long time both before when she worked for her father and now. She always avoids the subject more or less delicately. Maybe one day, he reasons, she'll trust him enough to open up and explain her reasoning to him.

The teen fixes the turbulent waters of the Seine. He thinks back to everything that's happening. He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to get back what he once had. It's tempting sometimes to give everything up so that he could just try and return to those easier times. It's ironic, he thinks to himself, that all of this is being done by his father and paradoxically for his father:

"All this so that we don't throw Hawk Moth under a bus, huh?"

"It is kinda dumb..." Plagg agrees with his partner. "He's destroying Paris trying to find you and you're hiding so that you don't have to fight him."

It's not a situation that Adrien's particularly proud of. People suffer because he's not willing to stand up to his father. Nathalie's right. If they put their mind to it, they could end this easily. All they need do is go to the authorities. If the police didn't believe Adrien, then they most definitely would Cat Noir. He could even go to Ladybug. She would know what to do. He couldn't though. There was still that lingering connection, dare he call it "love"? Which prevented him from acting. He couldn't fight his parent.

He wonders if he could somehow convince his father to change, explain the folly of his actions. Would the man listen? Was he even capable of reason any more? The teen can't quite help but voice his concerns:

"Is there anything of my father to save?"

"What do you think given that we're standing here having this conversation?" The woman turns the question back to him.

"Maybe we're just being naïve?"

"Mad is probably more accurate."

It's hard to argue with her on that point. He's not entirely sure if it was meant to be humorous or not. At some point in the future, he's convinced that he's going to end up regretting all of this. He'll tell himself that he should have acted when he could have and that everything could have been prevented had he simply stood up to the man. It's a train wreck he can see coming a mile away and yet is powerless to stop. He doesn't respond to the woman's statement. Instead, he sticks his hands in his pockets in an attempt to protect them from the chill of the wind. He's distracted once more. Despite all of his previous failed attempts, there's the eternal question which perpetually bothers him:

"You never told me why you're doing all this, why you're giving so much up."

As usual, the woman doesn't deign to answer him. She stares thoughtfully at the waters for a few moments, her mind obviously elsewhere. Adrien doesn't argue, repeat himself or labour the point, he simply accepts that he's not going to get a response and resolves not to bring the matter up again any time soon.

It's with a silent unanimity that they head home. It seems that they've said all there is to be said on the matter.

They spend the rest of the evening as they usually would: eat dinner, doing the dishes, going over his coursework, reading, cards or maybe a movie… It's become something of a routine for the two of them. It's calm and suits both Nathalie who doesn't like to be bothered and Adrien who doesn't want to be alone. There isn't a set "bedtime" at least not when there's no school tomorrow, generally the woman retires when she's too tired to stay up and if the teen requires his sleep before her then she goes to her bedroom where she continues to read.

It's just before she goes to bed that the woman hesitates, glancing over her shoulder towards him:

"Adrien..." She abandons the southern drawl for a few seconds. "There's no point doing this if you're going to suffer for it."

He nods slowly but doesn't respond, understanding what she means.

Several days later, Dylan is back at school. Everyone is suffering from the "back from vacation" blues but are none-the-less eager to chat and exchange about just what happened. He goes largely unnoticed, as he's doing increasingly these days. He suspects that he could easily go for days without once having to speak to his classmates. With one notable exception.

Throughout the course of the morning, he sees a girl with blueberry eyes casting nervous glances towards him. Should he look back towards her, she instantly shies away. They haven't spoken since the fashion show. He hasn't checked online to see how she did, assuming that given his father's reaction, it was well. Despite the circumstances of their last interaction, it's clear that she's uncertain. Whether she wants to apologize or try again, he's not sure but it's definitely lingering on her mind.

Finally, over lunch, she finds him. He's doing what he usually does when he doesn't have a specific task, sitting on the stairs and contemplating. Adrien knows that she's there but pays little heed, too busy watching the others listlessly as they interact in the courtyard. She waits patiently behind him, evidently hesitating.

After a few moments, the teen takes a very few tentative steps towards him. He says nothing, even as she stands net to him. Taking it as permission or at least tolerance, Marinette sits down next to him. Again, he remains quiet, his thoughts a mystery. They spend a little while like that: it's an awkward silence for one, unable to tell just what's going through the mind of her companion who refuses to acknowledge her presence forcing her to wonder if she's welcome or if this is some form of a warning. He can feel her gaze resting upon him but blocks it out. Finally, the girl lets out a sigh:

"I wanted to apologize for what happened. Please believe me, I didn't know they'd be that many people or cameras. I would never have asked you to-" She pauses, perhaps believing that she's already said enough. "I'm really sorry..."

She gets no acknowledgement. It's as if he can't even hear what she's saying, giving her the cold shoulder in every way possible. Still, either stubbornness or regret cause her to linger there, refusing to leave. Eventually however, the persistent silence and refusal to recognise her existence are enough for her to apparently judge that she's dealing with a lost cause. Full of regret, she gets to her feet. Her gaze lingers on him for a moment before reluctantly pulling away. She heads off, walking slowly, her head hung low.

"Dupain-Cheng!" A voice calls after her.

"Yes?" The teen spins on her heels, startled.

"I've been checking out some of the physics stuff for this trimester. It looks pretty nuts. You still up for explaining it to me?"

She stares at him as if he has just spoken in some ancient tongue, perhaps wondering if he had talked to her in the first place. It takes a few seconds but eventually she shakes her head, bringing herself back into reality. A relieved smile gradually makes its way onto her face. She gives him a few nod.

He doesn't say it. Dylan's not the type to forgive… At least not openly.


	24. Confrontation

**_Author's note: Thanks again for the reviews! Carolatavs: I'm honestly not sure. I get that feeling from the series but we've seen so little of Nathalie and know next to nothing about her. It's not even been made clear if she's been helping him because of her feelings or if they sprung up later on as a result._**

**_/_**

It's late afternoon.

In the middle of winter, that means that the sun's already beginning to go down or rather the cloud filled sky is getting progressively duller. It's something Nathalie takes notice of in silence. Nearby, Adrien is finishing his homework, his kwami perched on his shoulder. His phone goes off periodically, receiving a text from Marinette. The two are talking again apparently. She takes notice from afar of things, trying to ensure that the boy doesn't do anything too foolish. It's hard given that she's fully aware that he doesn't tell her everything going on in his life. So she has to trust him…

The woman picks up her handbag. Today's the day, she can't put this off any longer.

"I'm going out. Can you handle dinner?"

"What's in?" The teen questions turning towards her.

"Uh…" She tries to refresh her memory. "_Lardons_, _crême fraîche_, pasta, you can handle that, right?"

"I think so." He might not sound so uncertain had he not almost set the apartment on fire once already.

"I won't be long." She assures him.

She assumes that she's gotten off lightly. Adrien can be terribly curious sometimes. She's not too sure if it's an abandonment complex, if he's genuinely frightened that something terrible might go wrong every time they're separated or if the teen is simply nosy but the amount of questions she finds herself faced with on a daily basis is somewhat astounding. Sure enough, as she approaches the door, a voice peeps up from the couch:

"You're writing to your grandmother again?"

"Yes." Sometimes lies are necessary in order to preserve some kind of order. "I'm going to the post office and to buy some more hair dye, your roots are starting to show again."

She leaves a few moments later and hops onto the metro. Her destination? Somewhere public. She does however post a letter on the way, it's wasn't entirely a lie but it's not the sole reason for her eagerness to get out of the apartment.

The park in the 8th district is suitably quiet. She finds herself a bench to set down on. It affords her good visibility and has the added bonus of being difficult to creep up on. Perfect for her current needs. Her fingers slip inside of her pocket where they find a familiar piece of jewellery. It feels almost ice cold and she instantly recoils. There's a sense of foreboding every time she comes into contact with the broach, self-preservation kicking-in. She can't do without it however… It's a terrible burden to bear. She can only hope that she'll know when to use it, which will hopefully be never again.

The woman gets her phone out of her pocket. It isn't the same one which she's been using at work or to keep in contact with "Dylan". It predates this particular point in her life and is substantially better quality and more expensive. She's kept it charged but hasn't turned it on for several months now. Today will be the first time that she'd dared to turn it on.

She hesitated for a few seconds before letting out a sigh and holding in the button. She's wasting precious time. The device flickers into life after a few seconds. She still remembers her access code.

As soon as she gets to the home page, she's greeted with an ungodly amount of missed calls and texts. The latter number literally into the thousands. Somewhat curious, she checks just who they're from. Many are from business colleagues who apparently didn't get the message that she's no longer the person they should be contacting if they want to deal with Mr. Agreste. Most of the messages and attempts to contact her are from the same source however, one man who after some quick mental arithmetic, she works out has been trying to call her at least 4 times a day, every day since they left.

She lets out a sigh, aware that what's going to come will be neither easy not pleasant. It is unavoidable however. She tries not to think too much about the matter as she pressed dial, she knows that there's a chance that fear would get the better of her and prevent her from doing what she feels is her duty.

It only rings out for a few seconds, barely even that:

"Nathalie!"

The rage from the other side is palpable. He must have just shouted which leaves her to believe that he must be on his own. Either that or his new assistant just got an unpleasant surprise. She forces herself to remain calm and to avoid letting nerves get the better of her. She's spent a while planning all this out, trying to work out a strategy for saying what she has to say and getting it all over and done with as soon as possible. No matter what happens, she can't let him catch so much as a glimpse of her fear, he could easily turn it against her.

"Hello, sir." It's with the same professional curtsy that she usually used that she greets him.

"Where is Adrien?!"

Straight to the point. She's not all that surprised. Her former employer was never going to want to chat about the weather…

In many respects, that serves her purposes just fine. The woman closes her eyes, trying to block out the rest of the world and her own heart thundering in her chest. Gabriel is a very intimidating man, he didn't get to where he is now by being kind and considerate at all moments of the day. He's harsh and cold and that's when he's not being Hawk Moth. Over the years, she's learned to expect as much from him. She tells herself that right now, she's just fulfilling another regular part of her job, just as she had done for years in the past.

"Adrien's safe." The woman assures him is as calm a voice as possible.

"What do you think you're playing at?!" She's not even too sure if her words are registering with the man. "I woke up to find my only son gone and you with him! Adrien Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur have dropped off of the face of the Earth! Where are you hiding?!"

His fury shows no signs of dying down even as seconds trickle down. No doubt it's been building up inside of him since they ran. He won't have had any way to get it out of his system short of the periodic akuma attacks which had a tendency of only making his temper worse given that so far at least, he has inevitably been met with failure and disappointment. He's still mostly screaming.

Given how many years that she knew him for, if she closes her eyes, Nathalie can imagine his expression: teeth clenched into something of a snarl, face red with rage and a look in his eye which only speaks of a desire to inflict pain on others. It's a form of madness, she's sure of it, usually it's just temporary but from time to time, it lasts longer than it should. It sends shivers down her spine as she reminds herself that this man wields a truly terrifying amount of power and one which he won't hesitate to turn against them should the need arise.

She'll have to do her best to keep her cool and hope that he calms down a bit:

"It wouldn't be hiding if I told you."

"Do you think this is funny?! All of my plans, everything I told you about, everything that I was trying to achieve, why I was doing it… All of that has gone up in flames because of you! You are dead Nathalie Sancoeur and so is that son of mine if I find out that he-"

"Sir, is there any chance that we might be able to talk calmly or am I going to have to call you back?"

There's silence from the other end.

It's a welcome break but she can still sense the fury bubbling underneath. She wasn't expecting forgiveness or even necessarily reason. Her threat isn't an empty one. She's prepared to hang up, turn the phone off and try again another day if required. She hopes that this strategy will work otherwise all she realizes that all she's likely to get from the man is enraged yelling likely coupled with the occasional threat. She'll need him a good deal calmer and more reasonable than that if she's going to be able to talk to him.

Finally, from the other end, he speaks in a steadier voice, one which doesn't cause her to want to hold the device away from her ear for fear of going deaf:

"What is this about? Money? Power?"

"No… None of that." She speaks softly. It hurts that he would even think that.

"Then why would you betray me and steal my son?!" And he's yelling again… "Why have you turned him against me?!"

"He was fighting before-"

"Lies! Are you honestly trying to tell me that he's fighting me knowingly and of his own accord. I don't know what you told him but-"

"Gabriel!" She loses her patience abruptly, determined to not be labelled as the villain. "Do I need to remind you that you asked me to drug your son so that you could take his ring because, and I quote "he's not going to just hand it over, we'll have to cut his finger off!"."

One the other end of the line, the man hesitates. For the first time, he sounds uncertain. The silence compared to earlier is jarring. Briefly, she feels some regret. He was upset having discovered mere minutes before that his own son was one of his greatest enemies. Naturally, he was emotional, angry… She'd understood that much at the time. In fact, she was rather impressed that he hadn't been more direct about the matter. His words however had left their mark on her.

"You know I didn't mean that. I would never hurt Adrien..."

"Will all due respect, you're putting him in danger with every akuma attack." She reminds him of that fact.

"What choice do I have?" He speaks softly, the sense of desperation is clear. "How else can I get Emilie back?"

Nathalie bites her tongue for a moment, preventing herself from saying something which she's sure will only make the situation worse. She's quiet for a few seconds, choosing her next words exceedingly carefully. She knows that she's on the thinnest ice imaginable and that at any second she could break through. At this point, the woman is fully aware that she's gone too far to be redeemable in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, the woman tries her best to remain calm. There's a clock ticking in the back of her mind. She can't afford to be gone much longer or else Adrien's going to end up asking questions or worrying. She has to wrap this up. She speaks quickly, somewhat regretfully, as if trying to cover up for a mistake of some kind:

"I've told Adrien everything..."

"Impossible!" The man snaps back. "Then he would understand why I'm doing this. He would want this as much as I do. I don't know what lies you've told my son but-"

"Look at what you're doing to the city, to its people and his friends!" The woman raises her voice, desperate to try and get the point across. "Anyone else on the planet would have turned you over to the authorities by now."

"Unlike some people, he at least has some sense of loyalty!"

A direct attack against her, it leaves its mark.

She tries her best not to react too obviously. To a passer-by in the park, she might have tensed up briefly as if something had just stung her. She can't help but think back to all those months she'd spent by his side, going along with everything without even the slightest complaint, the amount of times that she herself had fallen victim to an akuma… To then be passed off as nothing more than a traitor, it hurts ore than she had thought it would. She should have been prepared for it but here it is taking her by surprise.

So the gloves come off. She's not angry but she stops holding back:

"Keep this up, there's only a couple of possible outcomes." One was statistically far more likely than the others. "Gabriel, you're going to kill Adrien."

Not intentionally. She doubted that the man, no matter how mad he had become, he would ever be able to willingly harm his son, at least seriously. No, it's far more likely that sooner or later the boy will simply be unlucky. More than once, she's witnessed him take a blow or two which has left a mark. They're lucky that more often than not Ladybug's cry of "Miraculous Ladybug" is able to put things back to the way that they were and that the worst of the damage is repaired. Nathalie's good at statistics however and she can tell it's only a matter of time before one of the akumas lands a fatal blow.

Once more, there's a silence from the other end. She's given him food for thought. Gabriel isn't irredeemably mad. She knows that much. He's doing all of this for his son. The thought of losing him will terrify the man. It's a good few seconds before he finally speaks once more:

"Then bring him back to me, where he'll be safe."

"I can't do that." A part of her would like to as well. "Besides, I'm far from convinced he'd agree to it even if I asked him."

"What's he to you? He's nothing more than part of the contract."

She doesn't respond, not because she doesn't want to – although that's certainly partly to do with it – but because she doesn't know how to. Adrien asks her a question quite often: why is she doing all of this?

In truth, she's asked herself the same question more than once. The answer is both elusive and evident. Nathalie simply can't bring herself to articulate it. She remains silent. The subject is drifting off course. It should be relatively obvious why she got him out of the environment that he was trapped in: it was for his own good. A better enquiry would have been to try to understand just why after all this time, she had decided to act. It's what she expects to hear from the man.

He contemplates her statement – or rather lack of one – for a few moments. She can almost hear him mulling over it on the other end of the phone. Gradually however, there's a mounting sense of anger that she gets from the other end:

"You're not his mother." Gabriel might not be yelling but there's no mistaking the venomous hatred behind his voice. "You never will be! Adrien is young and naïve, when he wakes up, he'll see what you really are, he'll turn his back on you!"

"I hope you're right."

She leaves it at that, turning her phone off before he can respond.

The exchange could have gone better. It was a long shot but she was hoping that the time spent separated from his son might have caused Gabriel to reflect a little more carefully on matters. Now it only confirmed what she already suspected.

She makes her way home promptly. She does her best not to think too much about their exchange and ignore how much some of the man's words had hurt her. She had been a fool to expect anything else.

Nathalie has her lies prepared. In her handbag, she has the boy's hair dye purchased a few days ago in preparation for her outing. It comes as something of a relief when she arrives at the foot of the building that the fire brigade aren't there. Making her way up the stairs, the woman isn't greeted by the smell of burning which she had initially feared that she would encounter. Adrien has handled the cooking rather well. There are no explosions, not too much mess (he seems to have even got the hang of the concept of leaning up after himself) and it actually doesn't smell all that unappetising.

He meets her with a gentle smile, relieved to see her. She plays the nonchalant card, acting no differently to how she usually would. She hands him the dye, reminding him that he can't go outside until that golden stripe has disappeared. The teen doesn't argue. He's practical enough to know that she's right. They sit down to a rather unremarkable meal. She lets Adrien talk, he rambles a bit sometimes. Quiet meals remind him of those he used to have to endure back in the mansion. She listens, it's not like she has anything better to do. He's innocent enough to not realize that maybe she's not all that interested in Jagged Stone's new record compared to XY.

"What movie do you want to watch?" He asks, handing her a dish for her to dry before beginning to wash another one.

"You can pick." The woman tells him.

The teen stares at her. She doesn't acknowledge his surprise. He hasn't misheard.

Whilst Adrien looks up something for the two of them to watch, she does battle with the heater. It's being increasingly stubborn. In winter, even a small flat can be difficult to heat. The small device tasked with keeping them warm barely generates any warmth now and whilst she might not be a mechanic, she knows that it shouldn't be leaking. It probably died about three days ago. Even Plagg offers his assistance although in the interest of both the solidity of the building and the continued existence of their neighbours, she politely refuses. The woman does battle for a good few minutes before reluctantly conceding defeat.

"What do you say?" She turns to the teen. "Next time my pay comes in, we treat ourselves to a decent heater?"

"I wouldn't complain..."

So it's back to good old fashioned blankets. Adrien never complains but it must come as quite a shock, the woman reasons, for someone who had been born into luxury.

She watches him more than the movie. Gabriel's words are still ringing through her ears. He'll be coming for them. He was before of course but her conversation with the man has only reminded her just how ferocious their enemy is. Adrien is always going to stand in his way. Hawk Moth won't stand for that. She doesn't think that he'll let anything or anyone get in between him and bringing his wife back. Nathalie knows that she took and continues to take a gamble. She assumes that the life of his son outweighs his desire to bring his beloved wife back.

What if she was wrong? What if the madness was all consuming? She may easily have condemned the boy to either fight or die. The doubt spirals round in her mind. Both troubling and distracting him.

"What happened whilst you were out?" The teen asks quietly, refusing to tear his eyes away from the screen.

"What makes you think that something happened?" She doesn't contract him, genuinely curious as to what gave it away.

"We're Watching Super Samurai Ninja Cats 3 and you're not complaining."

"Maybe I like Super Samurai Ninja Cats." A poor defence and not a serious one.

"You fell asleep during the last two."

She doesn't want to tell him the truth. She doubts that he would appreciate that she'd gone behind his back to talk to his father. She doesn't particularly like lying to the teen either but given the precarious nature of their current living conditions, she doesn't always see an easy and apparent alternative. Her mind works quickly, trying to find a convincing lie. She decides upon something that she knows that Adrien can relate to:

"It's nothing." The woman lets out a sigh. "I just saw a picture of your father… It brought back some unpleasant memories."

"He scares you too, huh?" Adrien speaks in a hushed tone.

"Having Hawk Moth hunting you is a little bit intimidating." She admits glancing from the teen to the screen and back again.

Adrien looks away, he fixes her in a way that he never has before. She can't quite place what lies behind his eyes in those few seconds: doubt, fear? A mixture of both? It makes the woman feel somewhat uneasy.

She wonders if her lies might have been seen through. Perhaps he had been hoping to hear that she was fearless, that she knew how all of this was going to end and could guarantee that they were going to make it out alright. She can't, so she remains quiet. He fixes her like that for likely only a few seconds but it feels like far longer for the woman who dragged him into all of this. Even Plagg seems to be somewhat perplexed by his partner's current attitude.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything." Adrien explains with a soft smile. "It's silly but I just realized I never said it."

She doesn't know what to say.

For the briefest of moments, a strange instinct takes hold of her. It wants to wrap her arms around the teen and pull him close, giving the teen the hug that perhaps they both need. A voice in her mind reminds her not to. This is going to come to an end sometime, the woman reminds herself, the chances of it ending badly are such that she can't afford to get too attached to him or have him form some manner of a bond with her. She puts on her professional facade once more and gives him a brief nod before turning her attention back to the truly dreadful film that the teen has elected to watch tonight.

Even he doesn't last through it. Falling asleep whilst taking up half of the couch with his kwami snuggled up closely to him, she can't help but wonder why he chose such a movie. Perhaps, he needs to be lulled to sleep by boredom…

The woman calls it a night as soon as she's convinced that he's out for the count, turning off the laptop. She opts for allowing him to sleep instead of waking him. Adrien's a surprisingly deep sleeper. Taking off his shoes and ensuring that his legs are resting on at least some of the couch only causes him to stir slightly, pulling his kwami closer to him. She finds her smiling softly, somewhat envious. It's been a long time she she was able to rest as soundly as he seems to be able to. She ensures that he's covered up with his blanket.

Sympathy takes over once more as both the boy's father and the teen's words come back to her.

"Don't thank me yet..." She mutters under her breath.

She knows they're far from out of the woods yet.


	25. Little talks

**_Author's note: Thanks again for all the reviews and welcome to new readers (Guest)._**

**_/_**

It doesn't take too long for Dylan to get roped into another plan. This one he consents to surprisingly willingly, taking Marinette by surprise. He has nothing better to do, he claims.

So he finds himself outside of the Dupain-Cheng bakery on a Saturday morning. Tom is handing out boxes of macaroons to his daughter and her newly designated helper. He takes half a dozen himself, slipping them into his school bag. The family of bakers must have put hours of work into preparing this many treats. The baker thanks the young man for his help, offering him a box to take home for his own family. Too surprised to react otherwise, Adrien accepts. Nathalie won't complain.

After a few minutes being reminded to be careful, the two teens are off.

It's a school fundraiser. Well, part of one at any rate. Everyone's doing something. Chloe's holding some sort of party do at her father's hotel and Lila's been called off to some sort of meeting with Prince Ali apparently… Nino and Alya are hosting some sort of DJ event in the school later on in the day along with Kitty Riot. As per usual, Dylan was about the only person who didn't have a plan. So naturally, helping Marinette had seemed like the best solution. She was only too eager to have an extra pair of hands with her macaroon run.

"Who knows, you might even enjoy yourself…" She tells him as they wall down the street.

"At least it's for a good cause." Dylan responds, leaving a pause before asking. "What's the money going towards again?"

"The school trip to Alsace and the end of the year dance, remember?" She's told him this before.

"Oh… Yeah, right."

He already knows that he can't afford to go to Alsace with the others. How could Paris possible cope without Cat Noir? It will be an interesting test to see just who stays behind and who leaves. Ladybug, if his father's hunch is correct and she's in his school, possibly his year, will also have to find some way of getting out of the trip. It might offer him some potential insight into candidates for his ally's true identity. Then again… Does he really want to know? It's probably better for safety reasons that they remain strangers.

He's brought out of his thoughts when they stop at the first house. Right now, he's acting more as a pack-mule. He doesn't complain. Allowing Marinette to do the talking, smiling and sales pitch. She's successful, selling off the first box with little to no effort what-so-ever. She takes note of how much has been given, jotting it down in a little notebook before they continue on their way.

The two teens go door to door like that. Some people buy two boxes, others none. Dylan stands back, preferring to watch than take an active part. He's quite content to carry the boxes and hand them to her wordlessly when she requires them. As per usual however Marinette is reluctant for things to remain cold and silent between them and periodically tries to strike up a conversation with him.

"So what did you used to do down south?"

"What do you mean?" Dylan plays somewhat dumb.

"I meant you and your mom." The teen clarifies. "What was your life like?"

"Big question."

"We could be at this a while."

A few months ago, he would never have figured Marinette for the nosy type. It occurs to him that her interest seems genuine, trying to understand him better as opposed to belonging to fishing for information to spread around some manner of gossip circle. These days, he doesn't argue much with her. Tease? Yes but he doesn't pick a fight. It's a welcome change apparently. It makes the atmosphere between them somewhat less strained when one of them isn't living in fear of the other suddenly snapping.

All those weeks spent plotting and planning with Nathalie come to fruition. He's able to tell her the lie of an entire life: where he was born and lived the first 14 years. His life was a simple one. He had been born onto the same farm as his mother and her mother and her mother's father… It was all his family had known. Now however some goats, a vegetable patch and a handful of chickens weren't enough to allow a single mother to support a son. So she'd gone in search of work and the easiest place to find that was the capital.

Marinette's curiosity is a good example of just why Nathalie had been so insistent that he learn what at the time had seemed like useless facts. Whilst he'd never said it to the woman's face, he'd thought that she was mad for having him read up about the basics and practicalities of goat farming but no… He actually finds himself explaining to the baker's daughter just how to milk a goat. Ironic given that he's never even touched one before.

"Do you think they make goat's milk butter?" Marinette questions as they stop at yet another house.

"I can't see why not." He replies with a shrug. "Why? Are you looking into getting into agriculture?"

"Not really my scene." She admits looking down at her feet for a moment.

"Then why ask about it?"

"Well I'm curious!" The girl defends herself. "I was hoping to get to know you better?"

He's figured that much out by himself. Trust Marinette to be the reasonable one, keen to get to know even the coldest of individuals. Dylan's gotten used to her stubborn persistence. Their relationship, such as it is, now seems to strike their classmates as comical more than anything else. He gets irritated when they laugh and tease for how easily the girl seems to be able to work around him, one way or another getting him to play ball. Then, of course, she comes to his defence, requesting that the others leave him be.

It's all very confusing to Dylan who struggles to recognize the girl Adrien once knew.

"Still on your tireless quest to befriend me, eh?"

"Would that really be so terrible?" There's a softness to her voice, almost pleading with him.

"Maybe for one of us..." He glances at her out of his peripheral vision. "Tell me Dupain-Cheng, what is it to you anyhow?"

"What do you mean?" It's her turn to appear confused.

"Are you afraid I might end up akumatized? Why are you so desperate for me not to be alone? Most other people would have – have walked away. Why not you?"

She looks uncertain. His question has put her on edge somewhat. She averts her gaze, a slight blush creeping onto her features in the process. It's not something that he's asking simply to play the role of the jerk and because he enjoys making the girl uncomfortable. For once, he's genuinely curious. He'd always associated Marinette with being incredibly kind, considerate and always eager to do what was right but also being shy and easily flustered. When faced with Dylan Lebrun – someone he would have assumed she would hate and therefore avoid like the plague - however, she's been anything but displaying a more confident and forceful side to her that he isn't quite accustomed to dealing with.

His only question is: why?

For a moment, he thinks that she might be about to ignore him. It would be her right. She glances up at him uncertainly, evidently wondering if it's worth the risk and if she can trust him with an honest and sensible response:

"Promise not to bite my head off?" He gives her a smirk, letting her extrapolate from that what she could. She lets out a soft sigh, explaining herself. "You seemed lonely… I guess I thought that might have been what was making you angry."

"Maybe I like being alone." He argues back, keen to play devil's advocate.

"Nobody's mean just for the sake of it."

"Tell that to my father..."

Nathalie would kill him. He's not meant to know his father!

The words had just slipped out. A product of the bitterness which still exists between him and his parent. Even before the man was Hawk Moth or rather before he knew that he was, he knew that unfortunately his parent had something of a cruel streak inside of him, meanness for lack of a better word. His father intentionally inflicted pain on others in the hopes that it would create an akuma. In that respect, what he had said was incorrect. His father was 'mean' for a reason.

It's too late now. He's certain that she heard what he said. The somewhat troubled and horrified way that she's staring at him confirms that much. He tries to ignore her, his mind working quickly to justify or rather correct what he just said so that it doesn't drift so far off of the _status quo_ that he had been so painfully established with Nathalie. He speeds up so as to no longer be by her side, sticking his hands into his pockets so that he doesn't start fiddling with his ring.

Slip ups are mercifully rare but every time that they happen he cringes, imagining his disguise crumbling to dust.

There's a silence which lingers between them. Painful and awkward. What can he say? He knows what it sounds like he was implying. He has to try and salvage the situation to the best of his ability. So he tries to play the nonchalant card to the best of his ability.

To his surprise, a couple of hands grab his arm, stopping him gently. He turns around to face the young woman. She seems troubled. Her eyes are fixing the ground, her expression sorrowful. She speaks without looking up to see him:

"Dylan…" She speaks quietly under her breath. "You know you can always talk to me, right?"

He remains standing there somewhat speechless.

Neither Adrien nor Dylan know what would be considered an appropriate response. One almost wants to give the girl a hug. The other, if he were to stay in character would pull away and tell her to mind her own business. His troubles are his own and nobody else's, she should keep her nose where it belongs. This girl is too concerned about his well-being for her own good. He's given her no reason to act like this. She evidently sees him as a soul in some desperate need of help and that it's her duty to give it to him, no matter how much he might protest or make her life a misery in the process.

It's so very different from how they once were. It's a shame he's the only one to know that.

"What did I ever do to deserve you Dupain-Cheng?" She frowns, confused by his statement. The boy shakes his head, refusing to explain himself any further, a strange and sad little smile seems to be tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on… We've got plenty more macaroons to sell."

The girl stares at him as he begins once more to walk off before indulging in a slight smile herself and following.

A silent understanding passes between the two of them.


	26. Speakeasy

**_Author's note: Thanks for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

"Hey! Lebrun!"

It's somewhat startling to hear someone calling after him in such a manner. Hearing that they're using his surname, he makes a point of not acknowledging them. Instead, he continues his way towards the metro, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up to protect him from the rainfall. She doesn't live this way, so it's apparent that she's coming this way with the sole intention of talking with him and he doesn't plan on making it easy for her.

He has a good reason for avoiding this particular individual.

He can hear that she is running. Her feet splash loudly in the puddles as she approaches. She's calling after him insistently, her tone becoming increasingly angry as things go. Just before he's about to go down the steps, she catches him. Physically grabbing a hold of him and pulling him backwards, away from the metro entrance. It's a bold move given his reputation. He turns around, eyes narrowed, dangerous and sending a clear message. One which the teen behind him doesn't seem to get.

"What are you?! Deaf?!" She snaps at him.

"Were you talking to me?!"

"Who else does it look like I'm talking to?!" The teen gestures at the largely empty street.

"My name is Dylan." He growls back as a response.

"You don't use my name. I'm not using yours."

"It's Anya, isn't it?"

_Alya_ doesn't like him much. That much is apparent. What had started at a weariness is now at best a dislike and probably at this point a fair amount of hatred.

It's all because of Marinette.

The girl is very protective of her best friend. The baker's daughter is unfortunately seemingly kind and clumsy, perhaps the sort who needs protecting from time to time. She's seen Dylan treat her well… Badly… His attitude is not a friendly one. He's harsh, cold and dismissive. It's a toxic atmosphere which most would chose to flee and yet she was electing to spend time in. Her reporter's senses had been activated, smelling a rat. More than once, he knew that she had taken her friend to one side and asked her just what was prompting her current attitude, if somehow the new kid might have found some way of pressuring her into spending time with him. On occasion, her challenges had been more vocal, protesting when he had told Marinette to "go back to her knitting" and threatening him with violence of her own.

Like a true bully, when faced with Alya and realistically most of the class, he'd backed down, finding comfort and solitude someplace else if Marinette failed to intervene or convince them that it wasn't a big deal. In her eyes, he's a brute. As unrefined and rude as he is ignorant. Just why her friend insists on spending time with him is a mystery to her and she's made it clear that she disapproves.

Which of course raises the question of just what she's doing here now, in the company of a classmate who by her own admission she can't stand:

"What do you want Césaire?" He grumbles, already fed up with the whole thing.

He's expecting her to start lecturing him about his attitude, telling him to stay away from her friend or at the very least to treat her with a modicum of respect.

As a response, he receives a cold glare from the other teen. He tries not to appear to be phased. The way that she fixes him is almost enough to convince the young man to back down, to turn away and leave. For a moment, he actually thinks that she might be the one to leave, the way that she turns away, frustration obviously getting the better of her. Abruptly however, she stamps her foot, as if it roots her to place before turning back to face him fully:

"It's Marinette's birthday next week!"

"Good for her."

"We're throwing a secret party." The girl lowers her voice ever-so-slightly but it remains angry none-the-less. "I don't know why but she seems to like you. So I guess that means that you're invited."

This comes as something of a surprise to him. Up until this point, he's been carefully excluded from most of the others' gatherings. Not that he's surprised. His behaviour has hardly been one which would encourage them to invite him to anything that they were organising. If it were anyone else but Marinette's birthday, he doesn't doubt that he would be left out.

He frowns, briefly contemplating refusing to turn up. He doesn't even need to be rude about it. There's plenty of good, viable and justifiable reasons for him not to go. He could be busy… The memory of her previous birthday party stirs in his mind. Befana asides, it had been a wonderful evening and hopefully one which she had enjoyed. Adrien had had fun as well that night. What he wouldn't give to go back to that evening and relive it, even just as a spectator.

"Okay… I'll be there."

"No funny business!" Alya warns him, her tone harsh and deadly serious. "This is Marinette's special day so don't you even dare think about ruining it."

"I won't… Now get out of my face."

He spins around on his heels and heads down the stairs to the metro. Thankfully, she doesn't give chase, apparently judging that he isn't worth the waste of energy.

It's not easy thinking of a present for Marinette. He'd had similar trouble last time and that was with an allowance greater than some people's salaries. There was something about the girl which made him think that she wasn't the sort to necessarily appreciate expensive gifts – not that he could afford her one right now anyhow. If he gave her a lucky charm like had last time, it would raise alarm bells in her mind. He draws a blank and asks Nathalie. She's precious little help. The woman struggles to come up with anything than stationary…

"The girl could do with a pen..." The woman muses as she watches him carefully iron one of her jumpers. "Unless she's changed, she could do with noting down that schedule of hers."

"That's it!" He gets a sudden flash of inspiration. "Thanks _Man_!"

"You're… Welcome?" She seems confused before turning back to the ironing and the growing smell of scorched fabric. "Now concentrate and stop burning a hole in my clothes!"

Alya only tells him (somewhat begrudgingly) the day before about the details, when and where he's expected to turn up.

It's a simple plan. She'll keep Marinette busy with something to do with the Ladyblog whilst the rest of them prepare the party in the park. Most of the class turns up, even a couple of individuals whom he's surprised to see given that as far as he's aware, they're not on friendly terms. He offers a helping hand or rather carries some stuff when they ask him to. He continues to play the role of the somewhat disinterested new kid who would have something better to do if it weren't for the fact that he plainly didn't. Most of the others don't interact with him other than to give the occasional tentative instruction.

It doesn't take long for the birthday girl to arrive. Despite his reputation, Dylan does indulge in a "Happy Birthday" shout along with the others.

The look on the girl's face makes it all worthwhile.

What follows is something of a strange experience to him. He finds himself a spectator of a scene which this time last year he was participating in. Dylan stands back and watches the others. As always, their interactions feel seem so strange. A part of him feels like he should be a part of it and desperately wants to join them. He wants to be as carefree as they seem to be, to chat and laugh and joke without the shadow of his father looming over him. He doesn't quite trust himself to be a part of their group. If Adrien were to shine through, even for a couple of seconds, he knows it would be disaster.

Watching, is reward enough or at least he tries to make it so. His friends are safe, happy and enjoying themselves. Part of the reason for that is because Ladybug and Cat Noir ensure that they are kept safe from Hawk Moth and his akumas. The city's heroes would struggle to do that without the miraculous of the Cat. In order to keep it out of his father's clutches, he ran and now is forced to hide his face. Watching like this without being able to be himself is his punishment and one which he gladly accepts if it will keep the others safe.

All the same… What he wouldn't give to be Adrien Agreste tonight.

Half way through the evening, the girl pulls herself away from a group of her classmates and pays him a visit. He greets her with a slightly tired smile.

"Enjoying your party?"

"It's great… Thank you." It's all genuine, she's not just saying it to be polite. "I'm a little surprised you came. I didn't think parties would be your scene."

"They're not but I figured you'd probably cling to me twice as bad if I didn't show up." The comment earns a giggle.

"You have a terrible opinion of me."

"An unfounded one?"

"Maybe not..."

Something seems a little off. He's not too sure just what it is. Probably something to do with the paper she's holding loosely in her hand.

There's a silence which speaks of that much. He doesn't pry, at least not at first. Instead, the subject of just how he came to be here is brought up. Of course, she knows about his interactions with Alya. Not just how she'd come to recruit him to help with this little scheme but also those during the previous few weeks. It's not a pleasant experience for Marinette to have to keep on trying to justify his actions to a friend who only has her best interest at heart. She tells him that much. At the very least, he could try to stop fuelling her dislike for him.

"Look. Alya's my friend… My _best_ friend." She stresses that point to him. "I know that you two have your differences and I'm not asking you to become besties but do you think you could do me a little Birthday favour and promise to go a little easier on her or at least not try and provoke her?"

"She's the one who comes after me, Peuchère!"

"Only because you almost bit her head off that one time." Marinette argues in her friend's defense. "I'll ask her to stop, I promise but could you do the same… Please?"

There are those puppy eyes again.

He lets out a frustrated sigh and nods a couple of times. Okay… He'll make an effort. He's not entirely convinced that it will be enough. It's possible that his outbursts have permanently tarnished his reputation in their eyes. Something which would actually rather suit his purposes. Considering that he's just accepted to do her a favour, he takes advantage of the situation to ask a question of his own:

"You gonna tell me what's in the paper?"

"What do you mean?" She chooses to play dumb for a moment.

"It's getting you down and you came here to me as opposed to the others. So I'm going to guess it has something to do with Lila over there." He nods in the direction of the girl. "Right?"

"You're clever, you know that?"

"Of course I do. It's others who don't. So are you going to spill the beans Dupain-Cheng?"

She hands him the note as opposed to actually reading it. It's a postcard from China. There's a bit of text written on the back. He reads it carefully. It's addressed to Lila but much of what is written seems to be intended for Marinette. Nothing mean. He's just asking his girlfriend to give his classmates his best wishes. An odd mix and one which he quickly understands. It's clear that the class' greatest liar has gone to quite some lengths this time, even somehow managing to fake his handwriting. It's quite the sinister little talent she has.

Rage takes hold. He trembles slightly, an action which he tries his best to conceal from her least she start asking questions. He has to remain in control and as emotionally detached from the situation as humanly possible. The simply fact of the matter is that he doesn't much care for his own name being used to inflict pain on one of his friends. He doesn't immediately hand it back to her. Despite his best efforts, some of his anger comes across as he speaks:

"Your friend didn't write this and if he did, he's the worst kind of jerk."

"I know that." She shakes her head glancing over towards where Lila is busily chatting to a somewhat unimpressed Luka. "The others don't know what she's like. They all think she's brilliant. That's the only reason she's here. It's actually the fact that Adrien didn't write that the disappointment."

"I thought you two were just friends?" He raises an eyebrow curiously.

"W-Well yeah…" For some reason, it's only now that she starts to stutter. "I mean we were never all that close- which isn't to say I would have liked to be – I mean he was great. Is great-"

From inside his pocket, Adrien can just about sense that Plagg is laughing or rather trying to hold back his giggles. He slips his hand into his pocket, eager to ensure the kwami doesn't unintentionally give away the secret of his existence.

This is the Marinette he knows: flustered and stuttering, nervous. It's hard not to think back to Nathalie. He knows it wouldn't be all that honest of him to ask her about it. In the teen's eyes, he's Dylan and not Adrien. Still, curiosity is quite the powerful driving force and given the current situation – he glances back down at the so-called letter from the boy. He'll regret it later, likely feeling some shame but he can't help but push the matter a little further:

"Did you _like_ him?" The way he says the word leaves little room to misinterpretation.

"Me? Like him? What no! I mean I liked him but I didn't like him-" She pauses, taking note of his somewhat dubious expression. "Okay… Maybe a little."

That comes as news. He'd never understood why Marinette acted the way that she did around Adrien. This made some sort of sense. All that awkwardness was to do with a crush.

In the face of such a revelation, he's not too sure how to react. He feels the heat come to his cheeks, genuine shame for not having picked up on it sooner takes hold. He catches himself before he can apologize for being so dense. He has to stop thinking about this as "Adrien" and start approaching the matter as Dylan. There will be plenty more time for regret and reflection later on when he's not faced with the girl. For the time being, he has to try his best to stay calm and collected if he wants to avoid coming across as a fool and hopefully make things just a little bit better:

"Well… I understand a little better why it would bother you. Listen-" He takes a deep breath. "You're not the first kid to fall in love and for someone not to notice or not to feel the same way. If what you and the others said about him is true then I'm going to assume he was just too thick to realize and that Lilac is trying to get under your skin. What I do know is you shouldn't spend the rest of your life pining over him. There's plenty more fish in the sea… I'm sure he does think about you guys but the way I see it, your roads have gone their separate ways."

She mulls over his words for a few moments. He's not so arrogant as to believe she hasn't already thought similar ones. Marinette isn't a fool and has likely already come to the same conclusion. Adrien wouldn't have intentionally hurt her. He's being used by Lila right now as a tool for some form of petty revenge. He's gone now though and even Dylan can't say when, if ever, he'll be returning. As a result, she can either spend all of her time thinking about what might have been or move on her with her life. Surely, Luka would be a decent alternative and in his mind likely a better choice at any rate.

"You never answered Rose that time..." Marinette's statement catches him of guard. "Do you have anyone special in your life?"

"I-" He hesitates and contemplates lying for a few moments. "I used to. I liked this girl but she already had someone else. I spent a lot of time pining after her and ignoring everyone else… Besides, she was way out of my league."

"Dylan Lebrun, actually admitting someone was out of his league?" There's a teasing tone behind her voice, gentle, affectionate. "You must have had it bad."

"Yeah well… Keep it to yourself Dupain-Cheng."

The matter passes silently between them. He doubts it will ever be brought up again. Dylan and Marinette are both surprisingly good at keeping secrets. Once told, their lips are sealed. He has no one else to tell and she's too considerate to do so. For a few moments, they watch the others in silence. They don't seem to have noticed the birthday girl's momentary absence or perhaps have simply decided to give her a few minutes alone with the new kid who still stubbornly refuses to join them.

After a few seconds, she glances back towards him:

"I didn't see you have any cake..."

"No." He admits, his mind was elsewhere. "I didn't take any."

"There's still some left and I know you don't like crowds, would you like me to go get you some?" She offers in a kind voice.

"Yes… Please."

"Stay here. I'll be right back!"

She dashes off to go and grab a clean plate for him. Adrien watches from afar, still trying to process everything that he's just been told.

A sense of bitter loss takes hold. All of that time wasted last year. Just how he could have been so blind as to not realize or even suspect that she had a slight crush on him when Nathalie – a woman acknowledged to be cool and emotionally withdrawn who had only met the girl on a handful of occasions and scarcely knew her as a result - had been able to pick up on it, is beyond him. His kwami settles on his shoulder, laughing softly about the whole situation as he continues to watch the girl from afar.

"She liked me Plagg…" The boy speaks quietly to his partner. "How did I not notice?"

"Because you're stupid and blind?"

The teen doesn't argue.

Right now, he can't say if the regret is because Marinette spent all that time looking at him and he didn't pick up on it so as to tell him that another girl already had his heart or because he didn't act on it and give her a chance. Who knows… They might have been good together.


	27. Small changes

**_Author's note: It'll be a couple of smaller chapters today for a change. Thanks again for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

Adrien tears into the kitchen. He's barefoot, his hair is wet from the shower and he's not even got around to putting on his tee-shirt yet.

Nathalie jumps to attention, heart racing and fearing the worst. Then she noticed something: Plagg is laughing. Not just chuckling as he usually does but in full-out hysterics. That causes her to relax somewhat. Her gaze falls upon the teen. His cheeks are flushed a bright pink. There's some irritation as he glances towards his kwami. A new but different feeling of dread takes over her. Why does she get the feeling that this is going to be a 'domestic' issue?

She waits, hands on her hips for the teen to speak. He's rubbing his throat. Has he injured himself somehow? She taps her foot for effect, letting the boy know that she's got to get to work shortly, she can't afford to waste time like this. Still, he seems reluctant to speak. It's only making Plagg's laughter worse:

"What is it?"

"I can't speak!"

Yes he can. It's just that the end of his sentence finished in a high-pitched squeak. Nathalie's eyes widen, surprised.

The teen gasps, rubbing his throat once more as his partner's laughter intensifies. The woman shoots the kwami a cold glare which causes him to shut up almost instantly. He's really not helping. Already, the woman's pretty sure that she knows what the matter is. On the other hand, she wouldn't be fulfilling her duties if she doesn't enquire further so as to ensure that nothing was more serious. It's plain to see that the boy is somewhat worried. He's not quite panicking but he's certainly worried:

"Okay… Stay calm." She speaks softly coming over to him. "Did you hurt yourself?" He shakes his head as a response. "Are you sick? A sore throat? Difficulty breathing?"

No, no and no.

It's a relief for the woman. Adrien still seems worried. The silence isn't sitting very well with him. He needs reassurance and it's a bit slow coming from her. There's a flash of irritation in his eyes as he looks to her for an explanation as to what's happening to him given that his own kwami has been less than helpful with the matter. She's about to talk when he snaps once more, his voice varies from it's usual tone to a loud squeak:

"What's wrong with me?!"

"Easy." She requests somewhat more firmly. "It's nothing to worry about."

"But my voice-"

Once more, his voice veers off to an impossibly high note cutting him short. This time, the woman is powerless to prevent a slight snort of amusement from escaping. As amusing as the squeaks are, it's more how worked up about it he's managed to get himself about the issue. He's obviously panicked rather than looking for potential logical explanations. She feels ever-so-slightly guilty about finding it amusing given the state he's currently in.

He actually looks somewhat hurt. Apparently he had been hoping for more from her. His temper and perhaps sensitivities have been affected. He snaps once more, ignoring the fact that his voice is refusing to obey his commands:

"It's not funny!"

"Sorry." Her apology is genuine.

"I can't keep the accent up!"

"Don't worry, with a voice like that, they won't notice."

He frowns, giving her an irritated look.

She lets out a sigh and shakes her head. Time to get serious about the matter. Adrien is growing more mature, slowly but surely but she can see it happening. He is however still prone to the occasional childish outburst. This seems to be one of them; brought on by fear and humiliation at being mocked for his reaction. Straightening herself, she wonders how best to put things before deciding to be direct about matters:

"You know about puberty." She reminds him, trying to nip the stupidity in the bud. "Your voice breaking is just another part of it. You're probably going to need to think about starting to shave shortly."

The teen doesn't look entirely convinced.

She's not too sure what else she can say to him. She'd never been a teenage boy. Going through puberty was both strange and challenging, she could remember that much. If he got away with his voice turning wonky for a little while and that was the worst of it then he would be lucky. The woman prepares breakfast, some _tartines_ with jam whilst Adrien goes to finish getting ready for school. It doesn't take him long. She's not sure but she's fairly sure that she can hear him practice his speech over the hair-drier.

He comes back in after a few minutes, sitting down at the table. It's evident that despite her assurances, it's still bothering him:

"How long is this going to last?"

"A while. It could be a few weeks or months." The woman informs him taking a bite of her toast.

"Guess I'll just have to stay quiet." He mutters putting his head in his hands.

"Oh don't be silly! Every boy in that class is going to go through the same things as you are. They'll have had their voices break as well and if somehow you're the first then that just means you'll have finished by the time they start going through it. Really… Don't worry about it."

"Easy for you to say. You didn't go through-"

"Dylan, I'm coming up on forty, I went through puberty! Maybe not as a boy but it's not a walk in the park for girls either..."

He's quiet, embarrassed and perhaps a little ashamed.

Despite her words, he remains quiet throughout the rest of the morning until it's time for them to part. Initially, she assumes that he's avoiding speaking so as to not risk using his voice and exposing himself to yet more ridicule. If that's the case, he's going to have to spend quite some time in silence. The woman is close to telling him to pull himself together, somewhat more forcefully this time. It's only when she's slipped into her coat and has her scarf and gloves on, ready to brave the cold to get to work that he approaches somewhat sheepishly and apologizes for his behaviour.

There's a pause.

She takes a chance and does something that she wouldn't normally do. She reaches out and ruffles the teen's hair. It takes him by surprise but earns a brief laugh. He looks back at her, amused if somewhat confused by the response. A brief smile confirms that she thinks he's an idiot sometimes but that she doesn't hold it against him.

"You're growing up."

A true statement but one which for some reason brings her a little pain. It doesn't seem like all that long ago that she was called in to help teach him how to speak basic French...


	28. Mending and amends

**_Author's note: This one ended up being longer anyhow. Oh well... Thanks again for all the reviews!_**

**_/_**

Dylan is ready to pounce.

He's got a free period. The whole class does in fact. Over the course of the past week or so, he's been carefully planning his moves. Watching his target and working out when they're alone and it's safe for him to strike. He's come up with a plan. It's been formulated not with Nathalie, he knows that she would disapprove. No, for this particular scheme, his accomplice is Plagg. A kwami whose sense of mischief and ethics have made him an invaluable ally for this particular endeavour. Even if he does seem a bit confused about why they're doing all this in the first place:

"Look… Not that I don't think it would be fun to give Little Mrs. Liar a scare but weren't you the one who said "Making a bad guy suffer has never turned them into a good guy"?"

"That was before. I thought she was just lying about things that she'd done." The teen explains himself to the kwami, not taking his eyes off of the corridor. "If I knew she was actually using them to hurt Marinette…"

"Say no more!"

Sure enough, their target is sighted a second later coming down the corridor. Plagg hides in the pocket of his sweatshirt. They wait patiently. Just as they're about to walk past, he comes out of his hiding place and blocks off their route. They stop dead, jumping back with surprise.

For a moment, the girl simply stares at him. Perhaps she had expected that he would want to be on his way. Instead, he stands there, arms folded across his chest and fixing her with a clear look of distaste. She frowns and takes a step to try and get round him. He moves, ensuring that she can't slip around him. She seems to get the message, taking a step back and giving him a cold glare. Still, he doesn't blink or explain himself. He wants to seem intimidating, something Adrien had never really succeed in but hopefully Dylan with his reputation would be a little bit better at.

"What do you want?" The girl grumbles eventually, weary.

"I'm here to ask-" No, not strong enough. "To tell you to stay away from Dupain-Cheng."

"What? I have no idea what you're-"

"Don't play dumb!" He cuts her short, raising his voice. "I've seen you. Heard the rumours you're trying to spread. That stunt you pulled at her birthday, that was cold."

For a moment, Lila actually looks hurt. As if he's offended her somehow.

Dylan however doesn't back down. Adrien was patient. He on the other hand has nothing to lose, no father to demand that he behaves like a model and no reputation to tarnish, at least not a good one. In short, he can afford to behave like a jerk. He lets her know that he's serious. This isn't for show. She has to stop. Slowly, that innocent little look fades away as she realizes he's not being fooled. It's replaced by something darker. Something he's seen a couple of times before where she's concerned but never quite so openly as this.

"You're threatening me?"

"Like I said… I'm telling you to stop. The others believe you. Why go after Dupain-Cheng? Seems like more trouble than it's worth."

"Did Marinette set you up to this? Are you her attack dog now?"

"Of course not. You think she'd have me do something like this. No-" It's a good thing he prepared for this eventuality. "I'm doing this for myself. I don't care for liars and you upsetting her means that I have to spend more time with her. So I'm telling you again to cut it out!"

She backs away, taking a single step back. She's not acting so much as feigning surprise. He can see that much easily. A second later, that malicious little smile of hers returns however. She's not quite done yet. A shame. He was hoping that this would be easy. Most bullies, which is what he's going to assume that Lila is, usually back down when faced with someone of firm resolve who isn't about to let them have their own way. At least that's what he has always assumed. In actual fact, he's never had to deal with many. It's one of the benefits of being the son of Gabriel Agreste…

Lila explains herself a seconds later:

"Can you prove that?" He raises an eyebrow, curiously not quite understanding her meaning. "Can you prove that Marinette didn't tell you to come over hear and threaten to kick my head in if I didn't do exactly what she said? Because that's what I'm going to tell the principle..."

He grits his teeth into something of a snarl. The threat is a clear one and he's not entirely sure how to react to it. A part of him wants nothing more than to grab her round the throat and scream at her for even daring to bring Marinette into this. That would only give some legitimacy to her claims. He's stuck. How to you react to a threat which everyone else will believe? Adrien might have stood a chance at standing up to such accusations but Dylan is a bit of a thug. He doubts that the school discipline board will be very understanding a second time around. The girl's smirk grows, sensing something of a victory.

He freezes, anger getting the better of him. He'd been an idiot to let things get this bad. Naïve enough to assume that she could change. In many ways, she reminds him of his father. Arrogant, believing that she's untouchable and her victory is assured. There's a taste of bitterness in his mouth which he can't quite shake off. It has a strange effect on the teen who imagines for a few seconds not that he's with Lila Rossi but rather Gabriel Agreste.

He laughs. If ever there was time to be mad. It's now.

She's taken back and gawks at him like he's just crawled out of the drains, evidently questioning his sanity. It only lasts a few seconds before he closes the distance between the two of them once more. It's his turn to wear the smirk:

"See… That's the difference from you and me. Me, I've got eight guys back at in the project who can say I was there with them playing basket ball. You? Not so much. You're all alone Lila and that so-called-boyfriend of yours in China won't do anything to help you, that's for sure. So you just think about what I said. I'd cut my loses whilst I was ahead if I were you..."

He doesn't give her any longer than that to think about the matters. In a few minutes, the corridors will be full of students and potential witnesses to their exchange. So he beats a hasty retreat. Hopefully, he's given her food for thought.

He makes a break for outside, suddenly needing air. There's a certain weight that's been lifted from his chest and it feels somewhat liberating. He finds a slightly more secluded spot where he can talk in private with his kwami. It only needs to be a few seconds but he feels obliged to talk about what just happened to somebody. His state of mind is such that he doesn't initially pick up on the slightly concerned look that Plagg gives him as he pops out of his pocket. Is this excitement? Relief? He can't quite tell. All he can do is note its effect on him:

"That felt good..."

"Not that she doesn't deserve it but don't you think that was a little harsh?" Plagg questions tentatively. "I mean… We could be looking at akumatization number four..."

"She had it coming. If she pushes it much further and it could be Marinette the one akumatized."

"Maybe… Just be careful kid."

Adrien nods. He plans to be. He's not quite done for today either.

It's later on that evening when he's looking out over Paris. Nathalie is aware of what he's planning this time around. He waits until she's home, no sense in leaving the house unguarded. She promises to prepare dinner and sends him on his way.

He always makes a point of transforming (be it into Cat Noir or back into Adrien) away from the flats. If it means he has to catch a bus or a metro home then so be it but at least he doesn't risk Hawk Moth somehow sensing his presence. There's not much chance of it, Nathalie assures him but sometimes, he has mentioned in the past being able to sense the presence of Ladybug and Cat Noir. There's no sense in taking any chances.

As soon as he's what he considers to be a safe distance away. He becomes Cat Noir and takes to the skyline. He makes a point of making himself visible. It's unlikely that Ladybug will be transformed, making calling her an impossibility. What he can do is count of a couple of whispers on social media spiking her interest and getting her to come and see just what her partner is playing at. He comes to a stop on a rather familiar balcony, not all that far away from the Dupain-Cheng bakery. It seems lonely up here without any candles but it will do.

Sure enough, he doesn't have to wait all that long before he gets a message from the hero asking where he is. He gives her his coordinates and waits.

She's there less than five minutes later, appearing panicked and out of breath:

"What is it? Where's the akuma?!"

"It's okay." He assures her, speaking in a soft voice which almost seems strange to him when he abandons the southern drawl. "There's no akuma."

She appears confused but relaxes somewhat. After a few seconds of staring at him, trying to figure out just what he's playing at, she dares to come a little closer. Things have been strange – not to say strained – between them recently.

His inability to come to terms with the reality that it's his father behind the mask of Hawk Moth. It made him distant, removed from the fight at first. Thankfully, he was able to get over that stage but has found it impossible to go back to the way he once was. He's not even going to try any longer. Their relationship has turned professional. That little spark that existed between them died down until it's little more than a partnership. It might as well be written in a contract. Ladybug has tried to understand, to come to terms with what's going on beneath but he's pushed her away time and time again. Until even she, stubborn and tireless as she is, gave up.

He gathers his courage, unsure how things are about to play out but willing to accept all of the consequences:

"I wanted to apologize for how I've been behaving."

She seems surprised, unsure how to react. She stares but doesn't get angry as some might have. His attitude has put both of them in danger on more than one occasion. She's bled because his head wasn't in the game on one occasion. He could understand if she resented him but that's not Ladybug. Her expression softens. She comes over slowly, bridging the distance between the two of them. Struck down with shame, he doesn't even dare to look at her:

"Just… Tell me what happened? It was like you changed over-night. I just want to help."

"The boy under this mask." He raises his hand to touch the fabric hiding his face. "Things got a bit rough at home for a while."

"Rough?"

"My father's a bit of a jerk..." He confesses, it's hardly a lie.

"Grounds you over nothing type of jerk or we should be calling the police sort of jerk?"

He shrugs, not quite answering one way or another. Sadly, despite everything, he can't quite bring himself to tell her the truth.

She approaches slowly and settles next to him. They watch the city in silence for a few seconds. The tension of the past few months slowly dissipating. His companion somehow seems to understand what it's like for him or at the very least, she seems to be able to comprehend just how it could drive him to act the way he has been behaving. She lets out a soft sigh after a few seconds, turning away from the city to look at him:

"I can't imagine what that must be like for you Chat… I'm sorry..."

"I shouldn't have let it affect me." He declares firmly. "I put you and everyone else in danger."

"Don't you dare apologize!" Ladybug raises her voice firmly as she scolds him before it softens again. "You're not alone you know… I know a boy who's got a similar problem – I think. Sometimes, it can help if you talk to someone about it."

"I-I have."

His comment earns a raised eyebrow.

For the first time, he dares to tear his eyes off of the city. He's on thin ice as far as his identity is concerned. He doubts that Ladybug is acquainted with everyone in his social circle (not that it's huge as Dylan Lebrun) but to reveal that his attitude was being altered by a certain Marinette Dupain-Cheng would have been pushing things a bit too far. He knew for a fact that the two of them have met once or twice during events such as Evillustrator. He's not about to take the risk of revealing her name. Cat Noir realizes that he does however owe his partner at least some manner of an explanation:

"I um..." He hesitates before deciding to take the chance. "I met someone… They've been so kind to me. Made me see what a jerk I've been being and they took some of the pain away."

"Is this a girl?" Ladybug pries with a slightly teasing smile.

"If I told you that, I'd have to kill you." He informs her in a good-humoured way. "I can't risk exposing my secret identity."

"Of course not kitty… I was just being nosy."

She giggles briefly and he gives her a smile. In a flash, all is forgiven.

They won't have what they once had. He knows that he can't go back to being that joking and carefree cat but at least, he dares to hope, they can be friends as opposed to just partners.

It's almost eleven o'clock by the time that he makes it home. He calls Nathalie to let her know that he'll be back soon. She'll have already eaten. He told her not to wait up for him, unsure just how long his chat with Ladybug would take. They do spend quite some time talking. The serious matters are put to one side whilst they discuss some of the simpler matters in life, watching the City of Lights live up to its name on a chilly winter's evening.

"Did everything go well?" Nathalie asks as he collapses on the couch and kicks off his shoes, hungry and tired.

"Yes… She actually forgave me. I think we're good..." He pauses for a moment, nostrils flaring. "Hey, what's that smell?"

She gives him a soft smile before gesturing towards the two boxes on the table in front of him. His eyes widen with surprise. He'd been too distracted to spot them when he came in, assuming that dinner would either be bubbling away on low heat or waiting for him in the fridge. Plagg is faster than he is when it comes to zooming over to check things out. He hops up and makes his way over, suddenly fully awake:

"I thought you didn't like pizza."

"It's not my favourite food in the world." The woman confesses glancing down at the two boxes. "But I thought you could do with something to either celebrate with or cheer you up depending on how things went tonight."

"Is that-" Plagg takes a few whiffs of the warm scent drifting out from one of the boxes. "Cheese?"

"Quatre-fromages. Will that do for you?"

The question didn't need to be asked. Adrien knew that his partner would quite happily eat the whole thing if left to himself.

A few minutes later, they're all tucking in. Pizza isn't something he's had all that often in his life. He was only allowed the best available as a boy and even that was on the rarest of occasions. It was all fat and carbohydrates his father claimed. Nathalie isn't too fond of the stuff either, too greasy for her liking but she doesn't complain as she good-naturedly battles Plagg for a piece of the four-cheeses.

"I got them from Zozan Kebab." The woman informs him as he takes another bite of his meal. "Cassim's looking for a delivery boy for weekends. I was thinking you might be interested… You know, as a part-time job? Earn yourself some allowance?"

"Seriously?" A part-time job, as strange as it seems is one of those normal things, he's always liked the sound of. "What about akumas?"

"Ah. I did ask about those as your 'concerned mother', don't worry. Akuma attacks made 5 minute delays completely excusable." He can't tell is she's joking or not. "You should go down there tomorrow and tell him you're interested."

He smiles softly in response. It's an odd feeling which takes over him.

This all feels so… Normal. It's a life he never thought he'd live. He's aware that it's an illusion. He's Adrien Agreste. Son of Gabriel Agreste, a millionaire who also happens to be Hawk Moth, the supervillain who's been terrorizing Paris for the past year and a half through the use of people controlled by evil butterflies. His partner and friend is an ancient creature known as a kwami which allows him to turn into Cat Noir and fight his father's fashion challenged creations. His only human companion is his father's assistant, Mayura, hardly guiltless herself but who for some unfathomable reason has taken him away to this place.

Somewhere out there… His mother is trapped in an endless sleep.

Yet right now. Somehow… this seems normal. As if it's a part of his life and always has been. It's a strange feeling. One which leaves him a little dizzy.

"To pizza?" He suggests a toast.

"To pizza..." She agrees, somewhat bemused raising her own glass.

The strange clink somehow seems to cement it all into reality.


	29. Heartfelt heartless

**_Author's note: Thanks again for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

Marinette's confession weighs heavily on his mind.

He can't quite understand how he could have missed something so huge. Plagg's analysis, for all that it was simplistic, seems to also somehow also be the most accurate and likely. It all makes some sort of strange sense now that he thinks about it. If she'd always seemed to be on edge around him, it was because she was nervous. What he had considered to be strange behaviour around Dylan was in fact perhaps slightly closer to the real Marinette than how she had behaved around Adrien.

The teen finds himself staring at her from time to time, as if trying to catch a fleeting glimpse of something which has eluded him up until this point. Usually, Plagg ends up having to snap him out of it. It could be considered strange or intimidating to fix someone for extended periods of time.

The next question he ends up asking himself is just why Marinette likes or liked Adrien. Was it the looks? He was quite used to having a large number of fans given his modelling career. Still, he dares to hope that she isn't quite that shallow. Could she like Cat Noir as well? What about Dylan? Wait… Didn't she have a crush on Luka? Things had seemed a lot simpler when it was just Ladybug whom he had to think about. Maybe that's why he hadn't noticed that others were taking an interest in him.

It's made all the worse by the school gossip mill which seems to be spinning out the story that he's got a soft spot for the baker's daughter. She seems to laugh about the matter, perhaps not taking it very seriously. Denying it when he's nearby. She's never asked him if it's true. He's not entirely sure if that's just out of consideration for his privacy, if she thinks it's nonsense or if she actually isn't interested and simply doesn't want to hurt his feelings. Dylan usually just shoots anyone whom he hears, thinks he hears or vaguely suspects of spreading the rumour a cold glare and then tries his best to ignore them.

He needs help. He needs someone to talk to. Someone other than Plagg who's taking a great deal of pleasure in his confusion and as a result in teasing him.

There's only one person he can really turn to.

Unfortunately, he feels somewhat awkward about bringing up the subject. Nathalie doesn't exactly strike him as the romantic sort. For as long as he's known her, she hasn't had any partners (he deduces that simply from the amount of time she seemed to have freely available to hang around the mansion and that family matters never seemed to be an issue for her). She seems so serious, so stern at times that he can't picture her on a date or even flirting. As a result, he doesn't mention the issue around her for a good few days.

She picks up that something isn't quite right and even asks him a few times if he's alright. He passes it off as simply being to do with stress, they're getting closer to the end of year exams after all. He can tell that she's not entirely convinced but lets the matter lie none-the-less.

Ironically, it's upon coming home from work one evening that she ends up bringing up the subject herself, without any prompting. She's tired. She works long hours and it's pretty thankless work having to deal with irate phone calls from enraged and/or confused customers day-in and day-out. He makes a point of asking her how work went. Her most common response is "as usual". She never complains but sometimes brings up exceptionally bizarre or stupid individuals she's had to deal with if she thinks that it might amuse him.

So that evening, when she comes in, as always he asks after she's hung up her coat:

"How was work? The same as always?"

"As it so happens, no..." She informs him with a faint smile. "A guy from the office asked me out on a date."

He stares at her. He's not too sure whether he's surprised that she's telling him this. Usually, he would have assumed that it was something a little bit to private for her to share with him. Nathalie is quite fond of keeping her own private life a secret and he knows that she doesn't always appreciate him digging around too much. Maybe this is her way of letting him know that she officially now has a boyfriend? He's confused, unsure whether or not to pry any further but struggling to think of how he could do anything else other than ask her about it.

Curiously, she chose to fill him in on the matter a few seconds later:

"I told him about you. Amazingly, that didn't seem to put it off."

"You think I put people off?" He frowns, somewhat hurt by the implication.

"No!" She's quick to reassure him. "Not you personally but a lot of people aren't too keen on dating others with established families. Least of all potentially moody teenagers..."

"Oh..."

He pretends to understand. For a few moments, he tries to think about how he would have reacted had his father suddenly announced that he'd found another woman to share his life with. Probably with a fair amount of scepticism and concern given that the man never left the building. That asides, would he have been angry? Felt betrayed? He's watched some television where the kids try their best to try away their new step-parent, would he have done the same?

Nathalie seems a little lost in her thoughts for a few seconds. Then, for the second time, she takes him by surprise letting out a soft chuckle. She might as well have just broken down in hysterics. Truly puzzled, Adrien raises an eyebrow:

"What's so funny?"

"I just hasn't happened in a while." The woman explains to him. "It took me by surprise."

"I wouldn't mind." Adrien tells her, speaking slowly, tentatively. "If you wanted to hook up with-"

"You think I care what you think?"

The bluntness of her question catches him off-guard. He blinks a few times, surprised. It's difficult to tell if she's genuinely angry or actually gently mocking him.

He opens his mouth to answer but finds himself unable to do so. He has two options both have potential drawbacks. His first instinct is to say "no" she most certainly doesn't need his permission, she's a free woman and can do what she likes. Then, it occurs to him that she used the word "care". If he says 'no' that would imply that he doesn't think that she cares about him and what he thinks. As a result the teen hesitates, torn and uncertain.

After a few seconds, a third option occurs to him. One which he timidly articulates a few seconds later:

"This is one of those trick questions, isn't it?"

"The boy learns..." Nathalie smiles softly as she slings her handbag over one of the seats. "Besides, I politely declined. He's a nice man but not really my type."

"What is your type?"

He surprises both Nathalie and himself with the boldness of his enquiry. Sometimes, curiosity gets the better of him, overriding his inhibitions and prompting him to articulate questions and sentiments which he would never usually even contemplate expressing.

The the reaction he gets out of Nathalie is one that he'd never thought he'd achieve: a blush. It's clear as day, her cheeks flush a brighter shade of red and she abruptly turns her gaze away from him. The awkwardness is palpable as Adrien realizes that he's said something which has unsettled the woman. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, not even daring to apologize for a few seconds. He does glance back briefly towards her and to his surprise, finds that her expression is rather grave. In those few instants, she doesn't look so much like someone embarrassed as someone ashamed.

She shakes her head a few seconds later, pulling herself together. Instantly, she's back to the usual Nathalie. The silence lasts a while longer. He chooses to fix a piece of the wallpaper which despite their best efforts is peeling away due to the damp. Finally, he admits defeat and lets out a sigh:

"_Man_..." He begins timidly, drawing her attention. "Can I talk to you about something?"

She turns curious. He calls her "_Man_" almost exclusively now. It's simpler than alternating between it and Nathalie and is less likely to lead to embarrassing and potentially dangerous slip-ups in public. He has her full and undivided attention. He's probably being a little bit too dramatic, causing her to worry over nothing. Still, he's not too sure how to express what's been bugging him these past few days, no doubt because he doesn't quite understand it himself. He fumbles, awkwardly, unsure how to begin:

"It's about a girl-"

"Oh no! I refuse to get dragged in to any of this teenage melodrama!" To be fair, she was firm on that point upon entering their current living arrangements.

"Aw please man! Otherwise I'll have to go to Plagg and I know his advice is going to be-"

"Alright! Alright!" She allows herself to collapse onto the couch before muttering distastefully. "Teenagers…"

Despite her obvious and undisguised exasperation, Adrien found himself smiling as relief takes over. He's already looking forwards to being able to get this weight off of his chest and hopefully getting some decent answers to the numerous questions and insecurities which have been plaguing him over the course of the past ten days or so. Nathalie looks over to him, shooting him a look to get him to get a move on and to spit it out.

Again, he takes a few seconds, wondering just where to begin. He decides to start at the root of the issue, where things first changed:

"You remember that you said that Marinette had a crush on me?"

"I said that?" She seems genuinely surprised.

"Well… You didn't say it but you implied-" He pauses, noticing that she looks none-the-wiser.

"When was this?" The woman sounds uncertain, it's not an act or her trying to make some sort of point.

"That time that she came round-" Suddenly it dawns on him. "You were ill. You used the peacock miraculous."

"Oh yes… Of course." Her voice trails off failing to hide some of her worry. "I don't know… Things are fuzzy from back then."

That's concerning. It's not quite the first time that she's expressed difficulty recollecting just what had happened following her use of the miraculous. The amnesia, if that's indeed what it is, is quite normal, Plagg assures them. He stresses to Nathalie that every time she uses the jewel, it's her entire body which takes a blow: heart, lungs, kidney, liver, brain... all suffer. She's aware of the risks, muttering quietly that she doubts she'll get away with another use.

Uneasy, she's quick to stir things back on track. She admits to being aware of the fact that the girl might have had a crush on him. It was hardly unheard of. If he says that she told him, then she believes him. He tells her about some of his recent interactions with the girl and what she had confessed to Dylan during her birthday party. He feels the heat rise to his cheeks, something he tries his best to conceal, looking anywhere else other than the woman. When he's done explaining, she contemplates the matter for a few moments, clearly giving it some thought.

"Do you like her?" She asks eventually.

"I..." His voice trails off. "-don't know. I mean I loved Ladybug- love Ladybug but Marinette, I've never seen this side to her before, she's… Special."

"Okay. First of all, be careful with saying that you "love" people. It's a big word." Nathalie's tone is firm, maybe a little harsh. "Throw it around too much and it becomes meaningless."

"I know..." Or at least he thinks he does. How does one tell the difference between 'love' and 'like'? The teen crashes down next to her on the couch, his kwami floating just above his head. "But I don't know if she likes me or if it's just because she's being kind to me that I- I'm so confused..."

"Well I believe it's part of the territory." The woman informs him in a soft voice. "Listen… I'm not the best person to ask for advice about this sort of thing but from the few times I've met Ms. Dupain-Cheng, she's seemed like a very reasonable and kind-hearted girl. My advice would be get to know her a bit more, just act natural – you know, for Dylan – and then, if it feels right, ask her out on a date."

He chews on what she's just told him. It's easy for him to see how it's the sensible thing to do. His past experience however is something of a mixed bag. Whilst as Adrien he'd certainly gotten a lot of attention, much of it unwanted or at least not anything that he'd gone looking for, his other persona had been famed if anything for his failure. It's hard to forget some of the incidents which to this day sting his pride.

The teen lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. It's his newest tell which is fine when he's dyed his hair recently but somewhat more hazardous for his identity if his roots are beginning to show.

"That didn't go so well with Ladybug." He reminds the woman.

"Because you were… Lets say 'insistent'. It's not wrong for someone to not be interested." It almost feels like he's being scolded. "You should just accept that and get on with your life."

"Did you ever have any trouble like this?"

"I-" She hesitates for a moment, uncertain before letting out a sigh and nodding a few times. "Of course I did. I don't know why you have so much trouble getting it through your head that I was a teenager once too. I've had and continue to have 'crushes' or people that I like. Which is why there's only so much help I can give you. Everyone's different. Unfortunately there isn't a guidebook for romance..."

"So we just have to work it out?"

The woman offers him a soft smile and a nod as response. The teen continues to look at her with confusion. No doubt spending so long locked up in a mansion with only anime to open his eyes to the outside world has left him with some strange views. He's still trying to find his feet and Nathalie is acutely aware that she is far from the best person to come to for advice on the subject. In the past, her own sensibilities and emotions have pulled more than one trick on her, the most recent of which is partly responsible for her current predicament.

Eager to chase such matters from her mind and that of the teen, she gets to her feet.

"Now, come on! I want to see you fry something without burning one side of it black tonight, okay young man?" Adrien stares for a second before nodding slowly.

"Thanks _Man_..."

"You're welcome..."


	30. Company

**_Author's note: Thanks for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

It's harder than one might think to behave naturally.

Despite his experience in trying to conceal his true identity both as Cat Noir and then as Adrien Agreste, he finds himself struggling to behave "naturally" around Marinette. She continues to spend time with him, seemingly unaware of his awkwardness. It's hard to fathom how she doesn't notice the slight blush that creeps onto his cheeks when she gives him a gentle smile or how he sometimes seems to look away, seemingly unwilling for her to notice his gaze.

He has to try and remind himself that it was Adrien who she had a crush on. Dylan is just a friend.

Eventually, he manages to get his head around the situation. Thankfully, Marinette is such a kind and welcoming person that it makes relaxing around her comparatively easy. She's always there with a gentle smile if not for him then for some of her other friends. She's tireless. It seems as if she's got everybody else's best interests at heart and casually pushes her own back her own. She's not an angel, he doesn't – or at least tries not to – have any delusions in that regard.

Dylan makes an effort, her weeks of persistence and stubbornness have paid off. He doesn't snap, at least not without provocation. Even the cold glares are increasingly rare and he doesn't even object to when he's supposed to take part in a team activity. The changes are noticed by his classmates and teachers. As a result, his report card for the second trimester is rather improved on what it was previously. There's some hope that he might do alright yet.

After a while, Marinette stops pestering him. She's still there but rather insist that he does certain things, the girl seems to be rather more inclined to leave it up to him to make the change.

As such, he finds himself faced with an interesting predicament one April lunchtime. Marinette isn't with him. She's sitting with Alya and Nino. She does that from time to time, she's not with him 24/7 and it wouldn't be fair of him to expect her to sacrifice all of her free time to keep him company. Usually, he would content himself with going to sit by himself and eating lunch in silence. He can entertain himself by discretely watching the others. It's what he's been doing for the past few months. Today however, something causes him to linger and it isn't the lack of an available empty table.

His attention lingers on Marinette, laughing and joking with her friends. The twinge in his chest is a familiar one. It's a longing which he's used to both combatting and disappointing. This time he yields to it.

Slowly, Dylan makes his way over to the table. Alya and Nino spot him coming, giving him a weary look as he comes over. It's hardly encouraging. For a moment, Adrien seriously considers backing off. He should be keeping his distance after all… A little voice inside of him which tells him to keep on going: he can't say if it's preaching folly or not. Only Marinette doesn't pay any attention, continuing with her story as he stands near to them. She turns to face him, her expression unreadable.

He stands there like a pillar for a few moments. Some strange yearning got him this far but now that he's here, he's a bit confused. Staring at them the way that he currently is probably comes across as slightly unsettling. Finally, just when they're wondering if he's had some sort of system malfunction, he manages to utter:

"Can I sit here?" There a brief pause before the teen adds, almost as an afterthought. "Please?"

Their surprise is evident. At least Alya and Nino don't seem to know quite how to respond. They turn to one another, doing something of a double-take. Seemingly neither of the two can quite believe their ears. He feels awkward, uncertain as he stands there, perhaps a little unwanted. Ironic given that had he been allowed to eat in the school cantine, this time last year he would have been sitting here with them. It's his former best friend's girlfriend who seems to be the most dubious, perhaps fearing some sort of trick or yet more unpleasantness from him.

He honestly thinks for a few seconds that she might be about to tell him to get lost. If he's being honest with himself, he couldn't entirely blame her. He's hardly been pleasant to be around. It's clear from the look that he gives her that she's not entirely comfortable with the situation:

"Sure..." Her weariness shines through.

"Thank you..."

He pulls up a chair and settles down next to Marinette. She's playing things surprisingly calmly, acting as if this is no big deal. She seems oblivious to her friends' stares. They still seemed to be struggling to come to terms with his presence.

Dylan eats calmly. It's enough to prompt the others to return to their original discussion. He listens to them. It would be hard to ignore their conversation given how close he is to them. They're talking about the future, specifically next year. Of course, the exams are coming up. It's not just some exams of course. In theory, they should all be leaving this place by the end of the next trimester, assuming they graduate that is. However, there remains the question of just where they go afterwards. They're certainly not short of potential options, some of which are far more appealing than others.

Listening is an art form that he's developed over the course of the past few months. He has to do so without appearing to be too interested which would be suspicious for someone like Dylan. So far, from what he can gather, they're all pretty much leaning towards the same direction: Lycée. All of them have very different career aspirations but it looks like if everything goes well for them then they should be sticking together.

"What about you?" The question, coming from Alya of all people, catches him off-guard.

"Huh?"

"What do you want to do with yourself?" The girl repeats, clarifying slightly.

Nathalie's been nagging him about that recently. He needs to start making decisions. Soon enough, he should be applying for school or an apprenticeship, whatever he chooses to do with himself. He's free now in many respects. He'd always assumed his lot in life would be to follow in his father's footsteps, one way or another and inherit the company. Now that he's free, he doesn't know what to do…

"Lycée… I guess. It's not something I've thought about too much."

The future is such a strange subject for him. He can't picture himself that far ahead. It's all so faint and distant, it appears to be little more than abstraction in his mind. Will he still be Dylan? Adrien? Hawk Moth casts a looming shadow over him. He blocks everything else out. Just how long will Nathalie put up with him intruding in her life? Have they gotten past that stage? The others seem a little surprised. He's leaving things late. Perhaps they assumed he had some sort of plan worked out that he hadn't bothered filling them in on because he isn't all that close to them.

He hesitates a few moments, still uncertain before adding a little more quietly:

"It's just… Another thing I'm going to have to figure out."

For some reason, he finds himself glancing to Marinette next to him. She's been surprisingly quiet since he arrived here. Perhaps eager to let him interact with someone else for a change. Right now, she offers him a knowing smile, one which he returns.

Something is lost in translation for Alya and Nino who stare, wondering what trick they've missed.


	31. Brighter days

**_Author's note: Once more, I would like to thank everyone for the reviews._**

**_/_**

When the weather gets warmer, some of the people around the project where they live decide to organise a barbecue. Delphine and Dylan are both invited.

They come along, a little bit apprehensive. Dylan can't quite seem to figure out just when Nathalie became acquainted with so many of the residents of their block. Apparently there's quite the social scene at the laundrette. That and, as she later informs him in private, it helps to know just who they're living next to. Dylan is friends or at least plays basketball with quite a few of the local boys so it's not as if they would just be spending that time alone in a corner. Besides, it's the 'normal' thing to do.

They bring along some food: a couple of chicken breasts and pork chops. To his surprise, Nathalie doesn't offer to teach him how to barbecue. Apparently, every time she even goes near one it tends to flare up and leave her with meat burned to little more than charcoal on the outside and yet somehow still raw inside. So he watches as one of the mother of one of the lads he knows gives a demonstration.

It's a strange atmosphere. He's been to these sorts of gatherings before with his friends: birthday parties or Heroes' day to name just a couple. Not as many as he would have liked of course but a few… The presence of families was always somewhat confusing to him. Not because he doesn't understand the basic principle or why they would all be here like this but simply he struggled to relate to it. Even when his mother was still with them, the Agrestes had always tended to keep to themselves, locked up in their own private world with only period interactions with a select few such as the Bourgeois.

All these people interacting and having fun together, it still seems a little bit unreal. His inability to properly associate with the others only serves to make him feel all the more awkward. He's not too sure what he's meant to be doing. Should he be hanging around with the families or on the contrary trying to break free and spend time with the usual gang he's taken to hanging out with. Lost, he finds himself clinging to Nathalie perhaps more than he should do. He remains by her side. Offering his assistance should she need it and otherwise just lingering uncertainly.

Eventually however, he gets the prompting he needs when they bounce a basketball towards him. He excuses himself politely from Nathalie's company, having already finished his dinner. She smiles, letting him go and watching him rush off.

"He's a good boy that son of yours..." One of the other mothers, who lives a couple of floors down from them informs her.

"Yes..." Nathalie mutters somewhat thoughtlessly, with a soft smile on her face. "Yes, he is."

It doesn't take long for Adrien to get into the swing of things. He's out there playing with the rest of the group. They're a mix of ages and sexes and whilst she's not entirely familiar with the rules of basketball, she's pretty sure that there's not meant to be that many of them on the court and that they should be staying inside of the lines… Actually, she's not even too sure they've formed teams… They just seem to be having fun and that's enough for her.

He comes back over only a couple of times for a drink. It's getting warmer now and running about like that makes him thirsty.

The second time however, the sun is starting to set, colouring the world in a golden light. He surprises her, coming up behind her with little warning. It's nothing malicious, like a prank as for a few seconds she suspects that it might be. Instead, he whips his camera out startling her as he puts an arm around her shoulders.

"Hey _Man_! _Ouistiti_!"

Delphine smiles softly, seemingly indulging in her 'son's' momentary somewhat childish outburst. A photo is taken. It dawns on the woman as he rushes away that it will be the first they've taken, outside of those required for their ID cards that is. She's not entirely sure what prompted him to suddenly decide that they needed some family pictures. Perhaps the others had been comparing theirs. For once, despite her natural questioning nature, she lets matter slide. Some of the laughter that she can hear belongs to Adrien. It's been so long since she last heard it so pure and genuine that she's not about to interrupt or bother him.

Instead, she allows herself to relax and enjoy some civil adult conversation for a change.

Like many such events in France, it stretches out into the night. She teaches him how to play _pétanque_. It's a game he's never tried his hand at and often associates with older people. The rules are simple enough and he gets his head around it. Dylan runs himself ragged with the others. He lets himself be free. Content at not having to pretend to be anyone other than a teen eager to enjoy himself and flex his muscles a bit. It's a freedom that he's not been offered many a time before and makes sure not to squander.

It's a little past midnight when the finally call it a night. There are still quite a few people out there enjoying themselves but tiredness has gotten the better of Nathalie who has been up since early that morning working. Adrien follows her surprisingly diligently. He's behaving… Oddly… Initially, she wonders if it might be the effect of either something which a fifteen year old really shouldn't have been helping himself to. After a few seconds, she realizes however that it's simply excitement. He's burned through many of his reserves and now his body is requesting that he gets some rest, even if he might have preferred to spend some more time outside with the others.

He's actually laughing as he gets ready for bed, re-enacting many of the events which she herself had witnessed. She doesn't remind him of that much. Bemused by how hyper the usually calm teenager seems to be. After about ten minutes or so, she's managed to get him calm enough to brush his teeth and vacate the bathroom so that she might be free to use it.

"Enough now..." She tells him gently but firmly after a while. "You need your rest."

"I'm okay." The teen protests.

"I know you. You need sleep or else you get grumpy. In that respect, you haven't changed since you were six!" Well… Evidently, he's gotten a fair bit more stubborn. "-and despite what you claim, that wasn't apple juice I saw you drinking!"

"I-" He looks flustered all of a sudden. "I only had a couple of sips."

"Hm… Of course, Plagg?"

"He's telling the truth Nathalie."

The woman gives him a slightly dubious look but accepts his version of events, retiring to get ready for bed, reminding him to take out his contact lenses which he periodically forgets to do.

She'll sleep well tonight, she can tell that much already. She brushes her teeth and changes into her pyjamas. She doesn't wear much make-up any more. That was very much Nathalie's thing. Now, it's basics only. Exiting the bathroom, she gives the teen one last glance to ensure that he's made it into bed. He's settled down but not quite asleep yet. He offers her a warm smile which she returns before turning around, ready to head back to her bed.

He calls out to her, still high on excitement:

"How long are we good for?"

"What?" She asks, perplexed by the sudden question.

"How long can we stay like this?"

She's not too sure where this has come from but none-the-less makes the effort to answer him properly. She reflects upon the matter for a few seconds, trying to understand just what exactly he was referring to. He hesitates for a few seconds, mulling over the matter. There's something about his tone of voice which raises a good many questions in her mind. He sounds, despite everything, a little uncertain, nervous even. She hopes to ease his worries.

"The papers won't expire if that's what you're worrying about. I have a job so money isn't an issue. Well, not much of one."

"So we could stay like this forever?"

In an instant, she understands what he means. Where this is all coming from. For a moment, she considers answering him. It's late however and she has other reasons for not wanting to get into such a potentially long and troubling discussion right now with the teen. Instead, she takes the opportunity to come a little closer, bare feet padding silently on the floor. He looks to her for guidance. It's not something that she ever particularly wanted but something which at this point she has largely accepted.

"Lets not talk about that now..." She requests softly.

"Why not?"

"Because today was a good day."

The leaves things at that. Offering him a gentle smile, despite his slightly perplexed look before turning her back on him as she retires.

Tomorrow is a new day, she sees no reason to tarnish this one in their minds.


	32. Falling in

**_Author's note: Thanks again for the reviews:_**

**_/_**

It's several weeks later when Dylan is at the laundrette with Nathalie.

He's discovered more about the intricacies about washing clothes in the past few months than he had over the course of his entire life. He's learned not to mix colors and whites unless he wants to end up with that sweater of his turning pink. He's been tasked with dealing with the laundry by himself on occasion (once Nathalie was confident that he wasn't going to make some manner of catastrophic wardrobe destroying mistake). They usually take turns. On occasion however, an exceptionally large load requires two of them or rather he's called it to help her carry it back up the stairs.

He fidgets slightly uneasily as he assists her in folding some of the sheets. They're not alone, there's quite a few faces which have become familiar during the course of his stay here. As such, he speaks quietly, trying to mask his discomfort from them:

"Man..."

"Yes, Dylan?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"You're going to have to because I most certainly can't guess."

"How do I ask Marinette to the dance?"

She pauses mid fold. There's a slight pause before she turns to him, raising an eyebrow quizzically. The teen's only response is to blush and look away, rubbing his neck awkwardly. It's something that he's been meaning to ask her all week, having failed to get a sensible response from his kwami. It's never quite seemed like the right time however and now he's due to meet her and her friends in the park for some more revision in only a few hours time.

The woman seems to be somewhat confused by it all, frowning slightly as she finishes to fold the sheet.

"What dance would this be?"

"The end of year dance..." He pauses for a few seconds before something occurs to him. "I don't think I've brought it up before."

"You haven't." Nathalie confirms handing the folded piece of fabric to him. "Sounds very American."

"Probably..."

He's honestly not too sure where it comes from. He knows that there was one last year and that it's reserved for the students in their final year at Collège Françoise Dupont but hasn't bothered to enquire any further than that. In keeping with tradition, Dylan is decidedly blasé about the whole thing. Which has lead him to the curious situation of being less than two weeks away from it without having a date. They're not essential apparently but he sees it as the opportunity he's been looking for to try and get to know Marinette a little more personally.

Nathalie seems to reflect upon the matter seriously for a few moments. It's a relief to the lost teen who really needs some sensible advice from someone whom he dares to hope knows a good deal more about the subject than he does:

"What you do is you ask her: Would you like to go to the dance with me?"

The answer is something of a disappointment although he should probably have expected as much from his guardian. He gives her a glance, just to check if she's joking or not. The slightly bemused look that he receives confirms that she's serious. He isn't too sure what he was expecting. Some words of advice, guidance and a decent pep talk perhaps? Whatever the case, he's now pretty sure that he's going to have to handle things by himself. Ironically, that's probably going to entail him doing pretty much what Nathalie has suggested.

She hands him the last of the laundry, threatening to bury him under it before taking what's left by herself. To Adrien's surprise however, she isn't quite finished. Maybe she takes pity on his regretful expression. Even after all these months, it's sometimes a challenge to guess just what's going through her mind:

"She'll either say 'yes' or 'no' - which is her right – there's no sense working yourself up into a frenzy over it. Just, make sure that you do it in private. It makes things less awkward for both of you."

Well… That's some slightly better advice that he can actually work with. He thanks her before carrying the laundry back upstairs.

He's due to meet the others at 2pm in the park for some revision. Arguably they should be doing this inside, some place quiet where it would no doubt be easier to concrete and there would be fewer distractions. It's such a nice day however that none of them could face the prospect of locking themselves away from it. The warmth of the sun and a pleasant breeze were enjoyable company as a group of four teens went through their work.

Today, it's history/geography which they are going over. They've developed something of a strategy to enable them to revise together: one will look in the text book and ask a question to another who should answer it. Get it right and they'll ask the next person a different one. If they fail, she'll move on to the next member of the group with the same question and so on and so forth. Once it goes full circle, they change the person asking the questions. It seems to work well enough, whilst also leaving room for the occasion bit of amusement.

"Dylan!" Nino calls out to him after a while. "Dude, are you like, still with us?"

"Hm? Yeah… I'm still here."

Lying on his back, with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed, it's easy to understand how they could have mistaken him for asleep. In truth, he's quite content like this. He likes feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin. It relaxes him, allows him to feel somewhat at peace. It's made all the more pleasant by the temperature which isn't yet so hot as to be unbearable. He's more than happy to lounge around lazily, listening with one ear to the others working. They think he's slacking off in his studies. In a way he is but only because he knows it already, Nathalie has seen to that much.

It allows Dylan to play the part of the chilled out aloof teen who doesn't have to worry about his grades, specifically because he knows that he can get through the exams.

"Hey, the guy's from the south." Alya declares, her tone of voice light-hearted. "He's probably solar powered. His batteries must have been running low."

He opens one eye and shoots the girl a playful glare. She takes it well.

There's a certain easiness which has settled in between them. He's not entirely sure that his initial behaviour has been forgiven or understood but the lack of any recent outbursts seems to have put the others' minds at ease somewhat. They're comfortable enough at any rate to risk hanging around him. The nervous glances have stopped. They don't expect him to be particularly easy to be around or even all that sociable but as the weeks treacle by, they're increasingly bold, pushing boundaries to see just what's considered too far in his books.

"1789."

"Huh?" Nino raises an eyebrow confused.

"You asked me when the Revolution happened." Dylan clarifies, opening both his eyes to fix the teen. "1789, right?"

"The Russian Revolution! Not the French one."

"Oh… 1917."

He's correct and they leave him be.

Perhaps they weren't entirely wrong to worry about him dozing off. As he most certainly does. Not for long, only a few minutes at most but enough for him to be startled awake. He looks around, only to find the others still nearby engrossed in their studying. Nonchalantly, he sits back up.

His gaze falls on Marinette, as it has been doing increasingly these days. Now is not the right time. He realizes that. He needs to ask her some place private where she won't be under any pressure and can answer honestly. Cat Noir made many mistakes, some of which have been pointed out to him since then, he doesn't want to repeat them. He doesn't want to risk alienating Marinette. Something which is causing him to have second thoughts about this entire endeavour. Doubts plague him, making him feel awkward. The last thing he wants to do is upset her, even unintentionally. He has no idea just how she perceives him. Is he a friend? An acquaintance? Could ever be anything more?

Over the course of the past few weeks, he's backed out of it several times. In theory, he'd initially planned to ask her 10 days ago.

She glances over to him and flashes him one of her usual smiles: kind and gentle, proof that at least something is alright with the world. Tentatively, he returns the gesture. She doesn't seem to pick up on his uncertainty.

"Don't tell me you're chickening out again!" Plagg takes a chance of whispering to him.

"I… Don't want to ruin things." He defends himself, speaking quietly.

"With Marinette? Relax! She'll be fine."

Adrien is aware that Plagg isn't always the best when it comes to advice. He can give some decent tips sometimes but things like people's feelings don't always occur him.

Alya and Nino are going to watch a movie. To his surprise, Dylan gets an invite along with Marinette. She shies away however. She's behind on some of her work apparently and needs to make up for it. Seeing an opportunity, he politely declines as well. So the party splits and goes their own way. It so happens that one of the metro stations is near the Dupain-Cheng bakery. So they can walk together for some time. He notices that she's giving him the odd furtive glance. The teen's not too sure what it's all about. Could she somehow be reading his mind or have sensed that something about his behaviour in her regard had changed?

Heat rises to his cheeks, he tries not to take any notice of her attention. All the time, the fifteen-year-old does his best to gather his courage. More than once, he starts up but isn't able to utter out more than what comes across as a slight mumble. Following about the eighth attempt, Marinette stops looking to him with some concern:

"Dylan, are you okay?"

"Yes… I um..." He takes a deep breath. It's now or never. "Marinette would you… Mind going to the end of year dance?"

She stares at him for a few moments. It's hard to tell if she's surprised, thinking about the matter or confused. He feels awkward, uneasy. Turning bright pink, he feels like squirming under what seems like a probing gaze. He looks anywhere else but the girl, eyes darting around as panic takes over. He wishes that he could travel into the past and take it back or tell her that it was little more than a joke. That would be something of an insult to her. Like it or not, he has to accept what he's done and the potential consequences.

Curiously, she's not quite as flustered as he thought she might be. Although she does fix him with a look that he can't quite place. Finally, she speaks in a soft and gentle voice:

"You mean, with me?" Hadn't he specified that?

"Yeah… Um. Look, it was silly of me. I'm sure you-"

"No." She cut him sort with a kind smile. "It's fine. I'd like to go."

He feels unsettled. Awkward, even when faced with acceptance. They're both a little shy around one another. The floor becomes very interesting for the two teens. A thought has occurred to Adrien. It's not a pleasant one but Marinette is such a kind person, so good natured and sweet, always looking out for others that he finds himself wondering just why she's saying 'yes'. He must have surprised her. After all, he's seldom called her by anything other than her surname these past few weeks.

"Look… Marinette." He's a little calmer, speaking softly in turn. "Please don't feel that you have to because you feel sorry for me or-"

"No! No!" She interjects more relaxed this time. "Honestly. It's not because I feel that I have to. I want to. You just… Took me by surprise, that's all. I mean, you have been calling me _Peuchère_ for the past three weeks."

That much is true, much to his embarrassment. _Peuchère_, literally "Not very dear". It's hardly Shakespearian poetry but is meant with something of ironic affection. He huffs with amusement, sticking his hands back in his pockets. There's a gentle smile which they share, a sort of strange understanding. He doesn't think that it's 'love'. Nathalie's right. That's a very strong word to use. There's something there however. Mutual respect and a certain fondness. Enough for neither to be fazed by the prospect of going to a dance together.

After a few seconds, he breaks away, clearing his throat:

"So… I'll see you there?"

"There and in class for the next couple of weeks." She promises him before surprising him by reaching out and plucking a daisy from somewhere near his head.

"How did that get there?" He asks, instinctively running his hands through his hair, only to discover that there are a couple up there, sticking to the slightly longer strands. "What the-?"

There must have been about half-a-dozen up there. Whilst he could conceive potentially of just how one might have gotten stuck whilst he was relaxing in the park, so many seemed unlikely. Marinette giggles slightly in response. Quickly, he associates the odd looks that she was giving him earlier with the flowers. A raised eyebrow is enough to get a response:

"Sorry! You were out cold..." As if that was an explanation. "Hate me yet?"

"I just started hating daisies? After all these weeks of you clinging to me, I think I have Marinette immunity."

She smiles and for some reason hands him back the daisy which she had initially removed from behind his hair before leaving. She wasn't kidding about that project. It's due in tomorrow. Just what could cause Marinette Dupain-Cheng to be running so late is beyond him. She must have one heck of a lot of extra-curricular activities.

He watches her run off home with a gentle smile on his face. It takes a few seconds for the excitement to really take home. This was one of the first times that a girl had actually responded positively to his advances. There was Kagami. He got the distinct impression that she didn't mind him. Ladybug sometimes didn't facepalm at his cat puns. Maybe if there hadn't been that other guy on the scene, then things would have been different. The fact that Marinette however actually doesn't seem to mind him, gives him a boost. He pulls out his phone and sends a text to the only person he can:

"_Hey_."

"_Well_?" Comes Nathalie's reply less than a minute later.

"_She said "yes"! :)_"

There's a brief pause, a few seconds where he finds himself wondering what if any response he's going to get. Then it comes through.

"_Congratulations._"

He smiles and allows himself to fall just a little more into becoming Dylan.


	33. To love a lie

**_Author's note: Once more thanks for the reviews! They really help!_**

**_/_**

The burns are quite bad and she's close to taking him to a hospital.

This isn't the first time that Adrien's come home in a bit of a sorry state. Usually it's nothing more than a couple of grazes or a bruise or two. Increasingly however she finds herself reminded of the fact that he's risking his life every time he goes up against his father's puppets. They're growing in power and frequency. A sign of desperation perhaps? It's clear that Gabriel wants to draw the miraculous holders out. Likely, the woman reasons, he's hoping for a slip up either from Ladybug and Cat Noir enabling to get one or both of their miraculouses or from their civilian identities which would allow him to uncover just who they were behind the masks.

All she can do is take note of the fact that it's his son who is paying the price, as well as presumably whatever young woman is behind Ladybug.

Adrien doesn't want to concern her. He passes off the pain as nothing more than a minor discomfort, something he can deal with himself. Sometimes she believes him. From the moment he steps through the door tonight however, she's aware that it's something a fair bit more severe. He's walking in an odd way and periodically grasps at his left arm only to wince and shy away from it. The teen doesn't deny his pain too much that he's okay and if anything seems somewhat relieved when she insists to have a look.

The diagnosis is a quick one. He has several first and second degree burns. Hardly surprising given that tonight's enemy's parlour trick was setting themselves ablaze and throwing fireballs at people. They had just lost their job and according to Adrien had decided accordingly to bring a whole new meaning to the term being "fired".

Nathalie's not all that interested in how it happened. She can more than imagine. The game that Paris' miraculous holders, good and bad, are playing is anything but a safe one. All she can do is try to fix some of the damage done. Sometimes, the means she employs feel less than effective. A wet compress can only do so much. He winces and hisses from time to time or at the very least shudders at the cool sensation against his sensitive flesh. She gives him some painkillers but it's clear that he's still suffering.

To the boy's credit, he tries to put on a brave face, just like he always does. Eventually, the pain begins to give way to a soothing sensation and he appreciates the cold cloths somewhat more.

"I think you'll be sleeping on your stomach tonight." Nathalie informs him as she continues to dab some of the burns on his left shoulder.

"I probably will..." The teen agrees, wincing once more. "Gabriel really got me bad this time."

It's about the third time tonight that she's noticed he's not using the term "father". Initially, she passes it off as the teen simply staying in character but there's a distaste behind it which has gained a cutting edge to it, so that it now actually sounds like hatred. It unsettles the woman a bit. Adrien is usually pretty tolerant. The bitterness, she reasons is likely due to the suffering that has been inflicted on him and his friend by the man. She can understand and relate. Every time that Cat Noir goes off to face the newest threat, she has her heart in her mouth.

She longs for this all to end… Still, some sense of obligation towards the relationship such as it had once been causes her to speak out:

"Your _father_ is getting desperate."

"If he wasn't mad enough before." The teen lets out a frustrated sigh. "Gabriel's not going to stop, is he?"

"No. I don't think he will. You can stop calling him that."

"Why? It's not like he's my father any more."

She pauses, unsure how to react to that. She's inclined to be compassionate. It's easy to comprehend why he doesn't want to be associated with the man who's trying his best to steal both his and his friends' miraculouses, putting the entire city in peril in the process. On the other hand, it's easy for Nathalie to see the potential danger arising from the teen putting too much distance between himself and the reality of the situation. The woman tries her best to think of the most delicate way of challenging Adrien's assertion. Given the current circumstances, she contemplates leaving the matter lie for a while, at least until he's recovered fully. Ultimately however she thinks better of it. Some things are best not left to fester…

"He's still your father." She tells him rather firmly. "You can't just wish that away or pretend that it doesn't exist. You can choose-"

"Why not?" He cuts her short abruptly. He's not angry so much as confused. "Isn't that why we did all this? So I don't have to be his son any more?"

"We ran away so that your father couldn't get his hands on your miraculous." She reminds him before adding slightly more quietly. "-and to try and slap some sense into him."

He knew that. They'd agreed to it that night which is beginning to seem like a lifetime ago.

It's been months since then. She's not going to deny that things have changed. Both in terms of Hawk Moth, whom she's now largely convinced is never going to stop until he's either victorious or permanently defeated and their relationship. Nathalie's not entirely blind to such things, she knows that the teen is growing progressively more fond of her. It's not something that she's either looked for or discouraged but rather that something seems to have happened. Perhaps they've both become a little too enveloped in the roles they have to play.

Her answer doesn't seem to sit too well with the teen. He shifts for a moment, glancing over his shoulder to look at her through his peripheral vision:

"Like that's going to work. It's too late to forgive him! Even if we could get mom back, she wouldn't want to be with him after everything he's done. I mean what sort of a-" He doesn't even have a word for it. "Who could love someone like that? The man he's become I mean."

"Maybe you're being pessimistic." Nathalie mutters not too keen on the turn that the discussion seems to be taking.

"Only another monster."

That hurts. He doesn't intend it to hurt her but it stabs right at the few parts of her heart which aren't armour-plated.

It takes all of her self-control to avoid her sudden discomfort showing or perhaps some anger which threatens to escape. He's not to know, she reasons. It's enough to stop her from snapping at him. Her pulse accelerates however as her unease grows. He stops what she was doing, freezing somewhat. If ever she had considered telling the boy the whole truth – not that she ever would – this is enough of an insight to confirm that it would be a terrible idea. He's angry, resentful and it causes her to be ashamed. Not that she isn't reminded on a daily basis that her feelings towards the man were at best those of a fool...

Her mouth is a dry as she struggles to think of a response which won't give too much away. So, she does her best to steer the conversation away. To confront him about some of the implications of such a train of thought.

"If you feel that way, then why not go to the police? Weren't we doing this for his sake?"

She hopes that the argument will cause him to see the light, to question why he's saying what he is.

Sure enough the teen is quiet for a few moments. She goes back to carefully applying cool compresses to his burns. His eyes are focused ahead of him, lost in thought. Nearby, Plagg watches them wearily as he helps himself to the Camembert left at his disposal. Nathalie's not too sure if she'll get a response. It's possible, she supposes, that she's given him so much to chew on that he might prefer to remain silent.

"If we hand Gabriel over..." The teen begins after a while. "I'd have to go back to being Adrien."

"Well you can't stay as Dylan forever."

"Why not?" He grows angry, raising his voice to challenge her. "At least people care about Dylan!"

Nathalie is taken aback by his sudden outburst. Has this been bubbling under the surface and she simply failed to notice? She's not too sure how to deal with it. Should she raise her voice so as to match his challenge or try to remain calm and reason with a teen. It's not impossible for her to imagine just what exactly motivates a boy who for the first fourteen years of his life knew little more than isolation and following the disappearance of his mother lacked any form of parental warmth to both guide and comfort him. Ironically, he's been able to benefit from friends and a sense of freedom by putting on a mask. He has a girlfriend or at least a potential one…

The attractions of the life are numerous.

"I can be who I want to be! I have friends, maybe a little more than that! I- I actually have someone who can talk to without having to make an appointment."

"Yes, Adrien." She does her best to remain calm. "But it's a lie."

"A lie that's better than anything Adrien Agreste knew!"

She lets out a sigh, her patience comes to an end. She doesn't want to snap, fully aware that it will only make things worse. She frowns, her expression growing grave. There is a part of her which doesn't mind their new life either. It's been a long time since she's slept as easily as she does at the moment. She feels at ease more often than not and being away from Gabriel is, she'll admit, somewhat freeing. Even if his shadow does continue to loom ominously over them. His anger seems to be abating, his expression softens as he fixes her.

"A-Aren't you happy here?"

"I..." How to answer that? "I'll admit that I've been more content here than I have been in a while but-"

"Then we can do it!" He cuts her short abruptly. "This can be the new us! No more photo shoots or schedules or Gabriel..."

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. He doesn't seem to realize. The way he continues on dreaming and excited. He's beamed out of reality. It reminds her of Gabriel. The man was prone to similar outbursts, tasting victory from akumas that he sometimes hadn't even created yet. At one point she'd considered it to be passion. She'd jaded now and calls it as she sees it: delusion. She dares to hope that the man's son will be easier to reason with than the man himself.

Nathalie puts her foot down. She raises her voice, knowing that it will be enough to snap him out of whatever lala land he's entered. A shadow passes over her features as she makes the effort to forget everything that's happened over the course of the past few months and go back to the way that she once was and how arguably she should have remained if she were being entirely serious about this whole endeavour:

"Dylan and Delphine are a fairy story! We made them up and I wrote it all down on paper!" The teen turns to face her, surprised. "These lives are masks to keep us safe until we sort out this mess with your father. This isn't real! It can never be real! I'm Nathalie Sancoeur and you're Adrien Agreste and- and I'm not your mother!"

She actually regrets some of what she just said. There's no mistaking the pain behind his eyes as abruptly, he finds himself pushed away. It hurts her as well, more than she wants to admit and certainly more than she lets on. It feels as if something has just broken.

Very slowly, Adrien pulls himself away from her, deciding apparently that his wounds have been tended to enough for one night. He seems calm, collected if somewhat disconnected from the world around him. He lingers there uncertainly for a few moments. A few times, she things that he might be about to speak as he fixes the couch listlessly. The teen rocks back and forth on his heels for a few moments, the collar of his shirt and the left side of his body still ringing wet with cold water from the bowl she has next to her and the cloth that she still holds in her hand.

He turns to face her slowly, expression neutral but calm. Then he speaks. It's the same old accent but the words seem cold:

"You're right… I'm sorry Nathalie."

He doesn't say anything else other than to announce that he's going to get ready for bed. Standing there in the dark, there's a certain emptiness which takes hold of her and weighs upon her chest. The woman shakes her head as she begins to tidy up. _It will pass…_ she tells herself, _i__t has to be this way for both their sakes_.


	34. Spiders in the web

**_Author's note: Happy Easter everyone! Sorry for the relative delay but I've been seriously busy._**

**_/_**

He's gotten used to looking at his own reflection in the mirror over the course of the past few months. What had once seemed like a stranger's face he now associates as his own.

The teen is doing up the last couple of buttons of his shirt. He keeps on giving himself the occasional glance in the mirror. He wants to look nice tonight. Partly out of vanity; he wants to impress his date. Equally, he doesn't want to embarrass her by looking anything else but like someone who's actually put some effort in for a change. He checks himself out, ensuring that he looks presentable before checking his watch. He should almost certainly be on his way if he doesn't want to be late.

Emerging into the living-room/kitchen, he finds himself faced with a pair of blue eyes glancing over to him from the pots. He averts his gaze, preferring to look elsewhere. It's not that he's met from hostility so much as it's impossible to face Nathalie without thinking back to their conversation a couple of nights ago. It's made things awkward between them. Killing that trust and dare he say it? Affection which had been steadily building. Over the past couple of days, he doubts that they've exchanged more than a handful of words and even those are strictly when necessary.

They've gone right back to square one. Maybe, like Nathalie says, it's for the best.

"Is that you?" She asks him seemingly interested.

"Yeah. I don't think I'll be back that late."

She nods once granting him permission to leave. The teen makes his way over to the door, feeling that familiar _off_ sensation that's been bothering him for a while now. He tries to concentrate on what's to come. He'd been so excited until the confrontation a couple of nights ago. Since then, everything seems to have been turned down. It's hard to get worked up about anything any more. He doesn't struggle to put his finger on just what's wrong… Despite his best efforts, there was something of a feeling that Nathalie would always be there for him. Now, he wasn't too sure. When this was all over. Assuming they were both still alive and free, presumably she would want to get on with her life.

"Hey!" To his surprise, she calls after him. "You look nice. Have fun tonight..."

"Thanks..."

He leaves a few seconds, his jacket slung over his shoulder. It's pleasantly warm out.

The ride to the school seems like a long one. With nothing else to do, he finds himself with little other than his thoughts to occupy him. They're not exactly easy ones at the moment. He's relying on the upcoming party to take his mind off of matters in fact. In the meantime, all he can do is relive that argument they'd had.

_I'm not your mother…_ Those words haunt him.

Of course she's not his mother. There's no blood there… His mother is currently in some sort of magically induced coma which, according to Nathalie, should she ever be taken out of stasis would kill her. He's taken that to mean that she's closer to being dead than she is alive. There's no replacing her. She was his mother, someone whom he still loves dearly with all of his heart. If he thought there was a way of getting her back without anyone else having to suffer in the process, he would do so in a heartbeat. He couldn't have said what his father's former assistant had become to him or rather, perhaps more honestly, what he had hoped she might be to him…

Dylan could pretend to be the tough guy who didn't need anybody all he wanted, he knew in his heart that it wasn't true… He did need somebody. Somebody who wasn't about to turn away and leave him. Right now, there was only one person who he could imagine doing that.

"Hey there!"

Marinette meets him with a smile one street away from the school. She's beautiful and he can't help but wonder if that dress is of her own design. He's aware that he's staring but can't help it.

They had agreed to meet here, away from the others. Both have kept it a secret that they're going together. Why? Largely to avoid gossip and rumours. Whilst it's unlikely that many people would care, it's still not something that either of them could face, not when they had so much revision to do. Adrien walks somewhat nervously the sort distance separating them from the school. He's not too sure how to behave around his companion. She seems relatively relaxed whilst he is awkward or maybe she's just better at hiding it.

He gives her a few furtive glances. Trying to recall just what he's supposed to do or say. Once more in his life, all he has are some American movies and series to base himself on.

"You look..." He pauses trying to think of the right word that's ideally not going to come across as creepy. "Really pretty."

"Aw. Thanks." She blushes slightly, eyes dipping in response. "You look good too."

"You made that dress, right?"

"So you do have an eye for fashion after all!"

"I have an eye for Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

She smiles softly in response and he feels his spirits lift.

Nobody notices the two of them arrive. Perhaps they haven't realized that they're a couple or more likely they have better things to worry about. Only Mrs. Bustier, waiting by the door to welcome to the students in and ensure that all is well. She seems to pick-up that something's up and tentatively, in her usual polite way asks them if they're actually here together. They exchange a slightly uncertain look, not too sure if they can explain it, even to themselves.

"We're friend-dates." It's Marinette who eventually finds a term for it.

"Good one." Dylan agrees with a nod.

"Well, you two go and enjoy yourselves." She instructs with an affectionate smile.

They oblige. Whilst there is some music playing, it's largely just for ambiance and no one appears to be dancing.

So they seek out some familiar faces. Well, they know everyone here but Marinette's eager to find her best friend and it's not like Dylan has a specific to-do list tonight. He's not all that familiar with this sort of event and so allows his companion to guide him through it. It's Alya who spots them first. She flags them down, calling out to the baker's daughter. They join them a few seconds later. Both teens look very smart.

"Now this is a surprise..." Alya eyes the two of them slyly.

"Yeah! You didn't say you were dating!" Nino agreed with her.

"We're..." Another awkward look is exchanged. "Giving it a go?"

That seems to suit the others more than Dylan thought it might.

They chat idly, discussing how things are going between them and the upcoming exams. The latter they quickly think better of as it reminds them of the stress of studies and things that they would rather not think too much about. Others come and go. Naturally, such an event is creating a lot of gossip and babble. Lila isn't present. That's a relief. Apparently, she can't bear to attend without her precious Adrien. That causes a slight smile to make its way onto his face, visible only as a slight twitch in the side of his mouth. Finally, she's caught herself out.

"You okay?" Marinette asks him half-way through the evening.

"Yes… Of course."

"Enjoying yourself?" He quickly realizes she's referring to the crowds.

"Yeah. So long as I have good company." He gives her a reassuring smile. "I'm not cramping your style, are you?"

"Of course not silly! I'm glad you asked and-"

They're suddenly distracted by some commotion coming from the entrance. There seems to be a crowd gathered. They're chatting excitedly. He even sees a few flashes from cameras. Strange… In the space of a few moments, he gets a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He doesn't know what it is but something isn't right.

A few seconds later, his concerns are confirmed with a glimpse of golden hair.

His blood turns cold as for the first time, Dylan Lebrun lays eyes on Adrien Agreste. He's handsome, perfect standing by the side of Ms. Lila Rossi. The teen's got to admit, she's done a good job. As Nathalie always says, it's the details that count. This boy is obviously older. He's taller, sports a somewhat leaner physique and is terribly handsome. He's charming too, that much is apparent through his wide smile and the way that he greets his old friends.

_Akuma._ Of course Dylan realizes that much in a flash. Adrien isn't the akuma so much as a symptom of one. Instantly, he spots the problem. He is Adrien. Looking at an Adrien he knows to be fake.

"I'm fine..."

Marinette speaks softly and meets him with a gentle smile. He hadn't even realized that he'd taken her hand. He releases it promptly, muttering an apology. His companion is torn, that much is apparent. For a few seconds, he can see the pain behind her eyes, a clear sense of betrayal. Perhaps not that Adrien is there with Lila although that must certainly will be a blow. It's more that it gives her at least modicum of credence, inevitably inviting doubt into the mind of a young woman who sadly knows no better.

Dylan realizes that he's stuck. Naturally, Adrien is her friend and she probably wants to greet the teen whom she had perhaps thought she would never see again. If she stays next to him it's out of some strange form of awkward loyalty. She told him how she felt about the boy and now he's here. Perhaps she's afraid that he'll be jealous. Jealous of himself… Now there's an interesting thought. He can't say anything without giving the game away for the simple reason that there's no feasible way for Dylan to know that this isn't Adrien Agreste. The two have never met!

Lila might have become tangled in some of the strings of her own web of lies but Dylan is well and truly paralyzed by his own.

Hopefully Marinette passes off his unease – if she even picks it up on it – as simply being a result of the awkwardness of the current situation. He's standing there like a bit of a moron, simply staring at the two of them, desperately looking for some form of a solution.

He can't let her just walk on over to an akuma, can he?

No need. The akuma is coming straight for them with clone/illusion/puppet/whatever that Adrien copy is. He only has a few seconds to steel himself. He had to do so twofold. The first so that Dylan appears as cold as he usually is and the seconds so that Marinette (or anyone else for that matter) don't pick up on the fact that inside he's panicking. It's imperative that he gives the impression that everything's normal.

"Hey there Marinette." Whoa… Apparently this Adrien hasn't had to go through his voice breaking quiet yet.

"Adrien! I thought you were in China!" Her voice is surprisingly calm, she doesn't look away or appear flustered.

"I was but when I heard that Lila wasn't going to attend the dance without me, I just had to come back."

That makes him angry. He understands just what part of this is about once more. Despite his warnings, which have actually proved to be effective for a while, Lila has gone after Marinette once more. She's a been a bit sneakier this time, using a ruse that at first glance seems like the genuine article. He would have been fooled as well if he wasn't… Well, Adrien Agreste.

The worst thing is that he can't act. He has to pretend that this is real to him and for the moment, the worst they could possible accuse the "happy couple" of being is insensitive. Granted, that would once have been enough to cause Dylan to fly off the handle. For a few brief seconds, he contemplates it but things better of it. All that would achieve is getting him kicked out, causing Marinette to potentially lose face and they'd still be no further along. No… He has to be patient and let everything slide. No matter how insulting...

"I see you found a replacement." Yeah, as if he'd known as Adrien that she had a crush on him.

"Wha-" Instantly, the girl appears flustered, maybe a little hurt. "You knew? But-"

"I might be an improvement..." Dylan can't quite help but grumble, cutting Marinette short.

"What's with the accent?" Adrien raises an eyebrow, his tone curious.

"I'm from down south, what do you reckon?"

"Oh… A _bou__s__eux_, I get it."

An attempt to insult or provoke? Probably both.

He grits his teeth, squaring up to… Whatever the thing accompanying Lila is. It's almost amusing how perfect this Adrien is. He's the best part of an inch taller than Dylan and well and truly without a flaw. Somehow, in the back of his mind, that makes things all the sadder. Marinette's fingers brush against his hand. She seems to position herself slightly between him and the other teen. He doesn't know if she's trying to ensure that he doesn't fly off the handle or if she's actually giving the other two a silent message to leave him alone.

"It's good to see you again." There's a certain clipped tone in her voice that lets him know that she'd rather they move along.

She gets something of a curt nod as a response but at least they're left alone. It's only once the two of them have moved along, chatting amicably with Rose and Juleka that Marinette starts to breathe once more. She seems frazzled. The encounter has no doubt shaken her. Her gaze lingers upon Adrien for a few moments. It's a pained look, full of regret. Perhaps not that he's here but rather disappointment at how he seems to have changed. Flustered, her companion shifts uneasily by her side, wondering if this might be one of those times when a respectful silence is best.

"You okay?" He tries tentatively.

"Of course..." Her smile says otherwise.

He's trapped. Perhaps Cat Noir would be of more use here but then how would he know just what was going on here.

Like it or not, Dylan reasoned that they would have to be patient. Sooner or later, things were bound to flare up. Hawk Moth wouldn't have bestowed powers on someone if he didn't think that there was a chance of him being able to obtain the ladybug and cat miraculouses in the process. In order to do that, sooner or later, Lila would have to act, giving away her akumatization in the process. Maybe not for a while though… Perhaps they had an agreement that allowed her to attend the dance with a lie so long as later on, she helped him more actively; like some sinister spin on Cinderella.

In which case, they might need to wait for some time yet. His attention turns back towards the girl who stands next to him, still shaken. Perhaps, if he's discrete, he might be able to clue her in without appearing to intentionally do so:

"Funny… I thought you said he knew she was a liar?"

"He… Does." Marinette frowns, thoughtfully for a moment.

"Guess he likes jerks then because why would he come here with a girl like that? I mean it's not like he's dating her for money or fame..."

I would never go out with someone like Lila he wants to scream. He realizes after a few seconds that his words don't quite seem to be reaching her. She's somewhere else, pensive. Her expression has become somewhat grave. He hopes that the clone's words haven't have too bad of an effect on her. Dylan feels trapped, powerless. All he supposes he can do is stay with his friend in the hopes that Lila slips up eventually.

"Dylan… I'm going to go to the toilet." She informs him, still not taking her eyes off of the duo. "Please, stay away from Lila and Adrien."

"You okay?" He can't help but be concerned.

"Fine. I just need a moment."

He allows her to go. What else can he do?

Dylan keeps silent watch on the two. He does his best to be discrete, only giving them the occasional glance. It's hard not to stare when he keeps on expecting something akin to an explosion. So far however, everything seems to be remarkably calm. It makes him nervous and a glass full of orange juice isn't enough to keep him from fretting. He's quite close to calling Nathalie when some cries from the room draw his attention. They're not scared so much as in awe.

"Ladybug!"

The hero seems to be relaxed. She's composed as she drops in amongst them, walking steadily through the crowd. They fix her with a mixture of admiration and clearly some concern. There aren't a million reasons why Ladybug would be here. He feels some relief. Finally, with her here, there's a chance that all of this madness will be exposed. He wonders briefly just how she realized that something was wrong but decides to think about the matter in more detail later on. For the time being, he stands ready. In all likelihood, once things kick off, he'll need to run, hide and transform as quickly as possible.

Professional as always, Ladybug is quick to take charge of the situation. She reassures everyone calmly but lets them know that they need to leave. There's no need to panic but they should still get out. There's some confusion. Where is the akuma?

In a flash, all becomes clear. He's never been so happy to see Ladybug get sucker punched, even if it is by his evil clone. It triggers the chaos that he needs to sneak away. Listening to the surrounding chaos would be pointless. It's clear that things have gotten out of control with the others, he can hear them yelling as he slips away into one of the empty locker rooms to become Cat Noir.

By the time that the hero emerges. It's no longer Adrien standing there. It's something else, something more recognisably monstrous. It stands by its creator's side, the spider at the centre of the web of lies. Cat Noir is quick to run over to his partner's side, noting that everyone seems to have gotten the message and is running for the exits. He hopes that Marinette is amongst them. She's a clever girl, he tells himself, she'll know when it's time to flee. The only thing he worries about is her being selfless and trying to get everybody else out at the expense of her own safety.

With little other choice, he forces himself to focus on the task at hand. He turns back towards Ladybug who stands there spinning her yoyo, anticipating another attack:

"Lila? Again?" He pretends to sound surprised. "She really needs a loyalty card! What caused it this time?"

"Not entirely sure. Doesn't really matter..." Her eyes narrow with determination. "You with me kitty?"

"Of course my lady!"

An easy smile passes between the two of them. Business as usual…

The fight is a long one. There's no doubt that Hawk Moth's akumas are getting more powerful. That being said, Cat Noir is aware that he's growing in strength as well, as is his partner. Whether that's simply because they're getting used to this constant fighting or its a natural part of their growing bodies becoming tougher and more resilient, he can't say. As usual, the battle spills out to envelop half of the city.

By the end of it, the two heroes stand atop the Eiffel Tower, battered and bruised but still alive. They listen to Lila's apologies or more accurately put up with them. Whilst it's tempting to just leave her there, both fear that will only cause the bitterness to grow. The toxicity is such that they reluctantly drop her off in front of the school. She wants to come clean apparently. That gives them some hope – _some_, they've been burned on more than one occasion… Even if she were to try and lie, Adrien struggles to see how she could possibly get out of the mess that she's currently created. He turns back to his friend, she seems equally dubious about the girl's claims:

"So… This time next week for Lila round 5?" He asks, the comment earns a sigh.

"I wish I thought you were joking. I think we'll have defeated Hawk Moth before she stops getting akumatized."

He has to agree with her on that one. They part ways on good terms. She really has to be somewhere else apparently.

Cat Noir makes quick work finding somewhere secluded and turning back into Dylan. He runs back into the building, only to find it remarkably calm. After over a year of constant attacks, parisiens have become somewhat accustomed to akumas. Once they're gone, they're quickly back on their feet. Brown eyes quickly scan the crowd, looking for a familiar face but failing to find it. Concerned, he starts to walk. Where is Marinette? She'd left him mere moments before the action had kicked off. He reasons that it's not impossible that she spent the whole time hiding.

Eventually he asks Alya and Nino, they're less than impressed that he's lost her but inform him that she's likely either still hiding or he's simply missed her. They are somewhat concerned however and agree to help him look. The group split up.

Quickly however, he finds himself distracted by Lila. The girl is practically in tears, quite a large crowd surrounds her. For a few seconds, he actually thinks that she might actually have bit the bullet, done the right thing and gone through with it. Then, the words she's speaking reach his ears. He feels the rage bubble away in her stomach. She must really take them all for fools. Then again, judging by the compassionate looks she's being given, he's willing to assume that they're actually buying it! Teeth clenched. He abandons caution, determined to put things right once and for all.

A hand catches him, wrapping itself around his wrist:

"Easy there..." She whispers softly to him. "That's only going to make things worse."

"You had me worried!" He tells Marinette, letting out a sigh as he sees her.

"Sorry… When I heard the akuma attack, I thought it might be safer if I stayed in the toilets." She seems awkward, perhaps embarrassed. "You're okay, right?"

"Asides this circus?" He gestures over the crowd. "Yeah. Fine, I guess. Akumatized because she misses Adrien so she creates a clone? Seriously?"

"Some people are desperate." She informs him, taking his hand. "Just, please leave it."

His gaze softens.

He knows that she hates Lila and yet here she is, telling him not to make things worse. Had Adrien Agreste really had that much of an effect on the young woman? With everyone crowding around Lila expressing sympathy and trying their best to comfort her. They're good people being unfortunately abused. It would be easy for Adrien and Marinette to reveal the truth, yet for some reason both hold back. Perhaps they hoped that she might reform? That seemed unlikely. On the other hand it could have been that they hoped that eventually she would get caught out. It seems impossible that she can continue on this way forever.

They watch for a few moments, somewhat detatched from what's going on. After a few minutes, Dylan lets out a little sigh and turns to her: 

"Would you… Dance? With me?"

She gives him a smile and a nod. The music continues to play and they have the dance floor to themselves. Nobody will notice. He doubts anyone will care.

"Can you dance?" Marinette asks him, taking his hand.

"I don't know." His response gets a raised eyebrow, confused but somehow amused. Perhaps she thinks he's joking. "Lets find out."

Adrien can dance. Dylan? Well, he and Nathalie never decided on that much...


	35. Worlds fall

**_Author's note: Sorry for the delay. I got caught up with a ton of stuff. Anyhow, once more thanks for the reviews. I'll try and keep the gap down a bit if I can._**

**_/_**

Spending time with Marinette is a release. He's at ease and that makes the rest of the world seem just that little bit more bearable. She seems to have endless time for him.

At this point, he's not entirely sure if they're dating. Strangely though, he doesn't mind. Simply being around her is reward enough. He wonders if she finds his change of attitude odd and she's just humouring him. There's something genuine about the girl however that causes him to dare to hope that the pleasure taken in the other's presence is mutual.

Saturday mid-afternoon sees him helping her and Jagged Stone prepare for his concert in a few hours. The man was kind enough to offer both his favourite upcoming designer and her three friends free tickets for event, especially since they're giving him a helping hand. Dylan finds himself essentially assigned to manual work. He doesn't complain, carrying boxes and helping Marinette shift through her supplies as she tries her best to make some last minutes modifications to a couple of her designs. She's meticulous, he'll give her that.

"Girl! They're perfect!" Alya informs her friend, bemused by her almost panicked set of mind.

"Are you sure?" She's not fishing for compliments, it genuinely doesn't seem good enough for the fashion designer.

"Absolutely." Nino assures her. "Jagged Stone loves them and so did Mr. Agreste."

"Is he still coming round?"

"Gabriel, here?"

Dylan wasn't aware that his father was due to arrive. It almost inevitably adds another level of complication. Usually, he assumes that it will be his new secretary – a poor frightened man widely regarded as being in over his head and unable to cope with such a boss – will be carrying the man around via video call as Nathalie had once done. Still, the memory of that time his father had unexpectedly shown up at the school makes him weary. He reasons that given the current circumstances, the man is likely growing increasingly desperate and as a result unpredictable.

"Yeah." Marinette responds with a gentle smile. "His assistant called to say he'd drop-by. It probably just means he'll be on a video link. He doesn't get out much..."

"So I've heard."

All the same, he decides that when the time comes for Gabriel Agreste to pay them a visit, he'll make himself scarce. There's no sense in tempting fate.

They continue with their work. Teenagers shouldn't strictly speaking be here but it's amazing what knowing both the performer and the man who makes his clothes can do. They stay out of the way of the workmen, providing assistance when necessary. Overall, it's a fun way to spend a few hours. Yet another example of the sort of thing which Adrien Agreste would never have been allowed to partake in. If he was able to attend the concert, it would only have been for its duration. No longer. That was if his father even consented to it in the first place.

He's helping Marinette tidy up some cardboard boxes when he hears his name being called and freezes. He turns round to face Nathalie. She looks far from impressed, walking over with long strides. The teen lets out a sigh, fully aware that he's likely about to spend a few minutes getting chewed apart by his guardian.

"Your mother came looking for you." Penny informs him, no doubt eager to ensure that she is who she claims to be.

"So she did." Dylan turns to her.

It's hard to look the woman in the eye when he knows that he's in the wrong. He didn't tell her where he was going, simply leaving and has his phone turned off. Even the most patient of parents would likely have likely drawn a line in the sand and those were the ones who weren't currently on the run from Hawk Moth. She has every reason to be angry when the boy she's risked so much to protect has run off without saying so much as a word and neglected to give her any way of contacting him or knowing just where he is.

Penny must sense that something's up. Perhaps the boy's caregiver has already explained matters. Her only purpose here was to make sure that she wasn't letting a stranger with no business here into the building. Now, Jagged Stone's assistant shies away, muttering something quickly as an excuse which Adrien fails to catch. He's a little too preoccupied by the stern and scolding glare he's on the receiving end of. Hands in his pockets, he finds himself fixing his feet, they're a little easier to focus on than the woman who stands in front of him. There's a silence, almost as if she expects him to speak. She probably does. He owes her an explanation.

He remains quiet. It's almost as if he's hoping that the situation will vanish if he doesn't acknowledge its existence.

"No note, no phone call." The woman is the one to finally break the silence. "I've been running all over Paris to try and find out what happened to you!"

"Why?"

"What do you mean '_why_'?" Her eyes narrow, a clear warning not to go down this path.

"Why would you look for me?"

To his surprise, she doesn't immediately answer. Her eyes briefly flick over to Marinette. The presence of the girl – as awkward as she looks – as well as that of others nearby makes it impossible for them to discuss the matter properly, not without endangering their identities. As a result, he actually thinks that she might be about to let the matter lie. There's always later for them to argue, when both are at home.

Instead, the woman lets out a sigh, her anger seemingly ebbing away. The disappointment is clear to read. There's something of a plea behind the eyes which appear to be brown through the glass which covers them. She asks him silently not to be this way. What would it take? An apology and a promise not to do it again. They would have peace. Something stirs inside of Dylan, an anger which he struggles to comprehend. It's a bitterness he's felt before but not for some months. Curiously, he finds himself sitting alone in his bedroom back at the mansion, waiting for a visit from his father which he knows will never come.

Why hadn't he told her? He blames his actions on a cold desire for revenge. A cry for attention of sorts. He's acutely aware that he's being childish, essentially lashing out because he can't get his own way.

She'd hurt him. That was all that he knew.

"I came looking for you because I was worried. When you vanished like that-" She stops, shaking her head and stopping herself before she says too much. "You know me, I tend to imagine the worst."

"Well I'm fine." His response is clipped, curt.

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear enough-" There's a certain harshness to her voice now, answering that which he's using. "I want some sort of guarantee from you that you're going to turn that darned phone of yours on and that you won't pull any more stunts like this in the future!"

"What's it to you?" He challenges, anger creeping into his voice. "What do you care what I do with my free time?! Is it because I'm happy?!"

"Of course not! I'm glad that you're happy but think about me for a few seconds! I can't go living my life wondering if you're okay!"

"Then assume that I'm not and leave me alone!"

He might have said something more, been a bit harsher and truly cut loose were it not for the presence of a certain young woman by his side. Marinette's eyes were wide. It was clear that whilst she might have tried to distance herself from the conversation, there's only so much that she can ignore. As his gaze rests on her for a few seconds, it serves as something of a slap to the face. He doesn't like the way that she's looking at him. Not because it's hateful but because he can imagine seeing and hearing himself talk and act.

A certain chill comes over him as he realizes that he's gone to far. He's said things that he shouldn't have and has treated one of the few people in this world who has his best interests at heart abominably. It's too much.

"I need to get out of here!"

The teen's state of mind is such that he ends up storming off in the wrong direction, away from the doors and the breath of fresh air he was so desperately longing for. Instead, he makes a break for a slightly quieter part of the building. It's not ideal but it's better than nothing. It offers him a chance to catch his breath and to try and make sense of what's going on.

It leaves Nathalie standing there somewhat awkwardly, torn between giving chase and leaving him be. It's made all the worse by the presence of Marinette. Whilst the woman has absolutely nothing against her, she would still rather that the teen hadn't witnessed that. In truth, she's not entirely sure what sort of relationship the two are. Communication with Adrien/Dylan had broken down only a couple of days prior to his going to the dance with her. She was going to assume that they were relatively close.

Whilst she's tempted to ignore the girl the woman becomes aware that she can't take the chance of allowing the girl to wonder too much about what could bring on such a public show of hostility between the two of them.

"Sorry..." Delphine mutters her voice marked by evident regret and frustration but softening as she turned to deal with the remaining teen. "He's working some stuff out."

"It's okay… I understand."

Could she though? It feels like just one of these things which people say to another to try and make a difficult situation easier to bear.

Nathalie stares at the teen from afar. She doesn't know what to do. If only there was some way to make him understand, to allow him to see why she can't be his mother. It's for their own good. His just as much as hers. Sooner or later, one way or another, this is all going to have to come to an end. It will be easier if there's little more than a professional and uninterested bond between them. In short, she doesn't want him getting attached… She doesn't want the pain in her life of having to say farewell to someone whom she's grown to care about. No. It has to be this way. If Adrien can learn to be nothing more than a roommate, that would be ideal.

There's some commotion nearby which she pays little attention to. It's a noisy place, full of people going about their business.

With a heavy heart, the woman resolves to go home. Adrien will have to return to the flat at some point. Hopefully they can discuss matters more calmly there. One thing is clear in her mind, they can afford to enter a state of war. She doesn't like to think of the teen as being angry with her, even if she knows it's not her fault and is level-headed enough to associate the rage with a mixture of stress, loneliness and disappointment.

There's a buzzing in her ear. She doesn't quite know what it is. The hair on the back of her neck stands on end and someone walks over her grave. In a matter of moments, the temperature of the room seems to plummet.

She knows who's there before she even turns around to see them. Maybe that's why she hesitates so much. Why she puts it off until the last possible second. She turns around. The action is enough to draw the man's attention. Eyes meet and instantly she realizes that the game is up.

There's an unmistakable spark of recognition behind Gabriel's eyes. It takes only a few seconds to manifest itself. He seems to do something of double-take. Most people probably wouldn't even pick-up on it. Years of working under his direction and study make Nathalie perceptive to these things. She senses the shock and then the rage before the man's expression even clouds over. She takes a step back. Every single fibre in her body demanding that she flee. For some reason however, she can't even move a muscle.

It's fear. In those few moments, both of them are frozen in place. The rest of the world fades out so that it no longer matters. It's just Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur face to face for the first time in months. Marinette seems to have twigged that something's not quite right. The man's assistant however continued to babble on frantically, struggling to balance the entirety of his boss' schedule. The intensity of the man's glare is such that it seems to bury deep into her, as if he wishes to burn a hole into her very being.

"You're fired." What? The words confuse her, shaking the woman out of her stupor.

"But sir..."

"I've had enough of your incompetences, you have less than a minute to get out of my sight."

Of course the fashion designer apologizes to the girl whom he'd notionally come to congratulate. She's too surprised to respond.

Nathalie sees what's going to happen before it even does. There's a cold and calculating spark behind the man's eyes which she knows only too well. A black butterfly will be on its way any time soon. It's target? The disgraced and recently fired assistant. She has seconds. The woman makes excuses of her own. She has to get back home, prepare for dinner. It's pathetic but all that she can come up with. Right now, if all that comes of this is that Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a little confused and suspicious, the woman reasons that it will be a small price to pay. Right now, she has to disappear.

Naturally, the first thing that occurs to her is that Adrien's in danger. It takes a few moments to realize that it's unlikely that Gabriel would equate the strange and somewhat aloof boy with being her "son". By some minor miracle he hadn't seen the two of them together. That might buy the teen some time. Still, as she makes as quick and discrete a break as is humanly possible for the door, the woman gets her phone out and begins to text frantically:

_Gabriel here. Akuma incoming. He knows._

Please let him answer this time...

The shouting and panic behind her seems to confirm her worst fears. No doubt that was one of the reasons why Gabriel put up with such an incompetent assistant. He was something of a portable akuma, only an insult or a dismissal away from becoming a weapon. If he wanted vengeance against his former employer – something that she could sympathize with – then Hawk Moth would grant him the ability to do so so long as he did something for him. Presumably, that will be to attack her.

She needs to get away. To disappear… Given the commotion, it's a fair bet that Cat Noir and Ladybug will be on the scene in a matter of minutes. She might not even need to make it that far, so long as she wasn't caught.

"Nathalie!"

Why does she stop?

It's insane but she finds herself stopping dead. Behind her, Hawk Moth fixing her. Nobody pays any attention to what he just called out, they're all too busy trying to escape from the building as tremors begin to shake the ground. A few have noticed the presence of the man responsible for all of this and react accordingly, running as fast as humanly possible in the other direction. She simply fixes the miraculous holder, surprised by his boldness at exposing himself in the open like this. He must truly be desperate.

There's no way he's letting her escape, she realizes.

"An interesting disguise!" The villain's eyes run over her for a second. "I imagine my son is wearing one as well."

"There are people here." She stresses the fact to him, glancing around as panic begins to spread.

"Nobody for you to hide behind." He glances around himself briefly. "They don't care about you."

He's right. Outside of Paris' heroes, there wasn't anyone who was going to save her. Slowly, she reaches into her pocket, inside lies the peacock miraculous. She doesn't want to use it but terror in the face of her enemy makes her desperate.

Hawk Moth moves like a bolt of lightning. He swings his cane, hitting her left arm hand and batting it away from her pocket. She lets out an involuntary yelp, grabbing her wrist in an effort to ease the pain. Her distraction, whilst only momentary, is costly. In a flash, the man is upon her. His hand wraps itself around her throat, lifting her clean off of the ground. She gasps, unable to breathe. Instinct demands that she claws at his hand, desperately trying to remove his iron grip. He's merciless. If anything, her efforts only serve to make him exert more pressure.

"Where is my son?!"

Naturally, Adrien had noticed the akuma. In the space of a few seconds, he tried his best to evaluate just what he – or rather Ladybug and Cat Noir – were going to be up against. _Psysmic…_ Seriously where did these guys even get their names from? Oh that's right, his beloved father has something to do with it. He's definitely got it out for Gabriel Agreste, shouting for the man to show himself as he proceeds to destroy everything in its surroundings. Perhaps somewhat more troublesome is that he seems to be able to generate earthquakes. Already, the building and its foundations are shaking and pieces of plaster are beginning to fall. It won't be able to withstand much more of this.

The slight problem he's encountering is the shear number of people compared to hiding places. It won't be possible for him to change in here. Not without somebody spotting him. The building's emptying, so he can either wait here until it's all clear and hope that the ceiling doesn't cave in in the meantime. Alternatively, he can run like everyone else. He would be more willing to do that if he knew that Marinette was out. She seems to have vanished again.

There's some shouting and news which causes his blood to turn to ice soon reaches his ears.

Hawk Moth is here. Does Gabriel know who he is? Why would the villain show up here in person. Instinctively, he finds himself searching for the figure not so as to fight him but simply to know where he is. Logic dictates that he's most likely to be the figure everyone seems to be fleeing from.

There!

Adrien catches a brief glimpse of a figure clad in purple. There's somebody else next to him. He squints, trying to make out what's going on. Initially, he assumes it's some brave fool who's tried to attack the man only to be reminded that powered-up miraculous holders are far stronger than your average person.

Then he sees the face a little clearer. Terror grips him. It takes all of his self-control not to cry out, to scream her name. He stares. He doesn't need to hear what's being said to know that Hawk Moth is threatening her. His sword is out, it's raised and pricking at her throat. For a few seconds, it seems as if the man can't quite seem to go through with it. He seems angry. Angry enough to kill her? Is his father a murderer?

Something inside of him snaps. He doesn't really know what it is.

There are too many people. He can't transform. The time it would take him to break away and find some place discrete enough to become Cat Noir, she'll already be dead. So Dylan Lebrun does something singularly brave and foolish in front of everyone still watching. He takes his ring off, slipping it into his pocket. He can't afford any symbol which might give his true identity away. Then he charges. He rushes as fast as his legs will allow.

He gives the man no warning, throwing himself into him with all of his strength. The force from the impact of having a teenager collide with him is enough to send Hawk Moth crashing to the ground. In the process, he lets go of his victim. The man is stunned, clearly somewhat confused to find himself attacked by a stranger.

Adrien knows he doesn't have long. Whilst he might have had the benefit of surprise, it will only require a few seconds for Hawk Moth to get the better of him. He turns to Nathalie. The woman is gasping for breath, clearly shaken.

"Run!" The teen shouts, only just managing to maintain the accent.

She stares at him. Clearly uncertain. An understanding passes between them. She's vulnerable and it's her that Gabriel is after. He doesn't seem to recognize his son. She has to take these few seconds to escape. On the other hand, leaving the boy here isn't exactly an appealing prospect. She hesitates for a few seconds.

It's all the man needs to get back to his feet and lunge once more at Nathalie. She instinctively jumps backwards. Once again, Dylan catches the man, this time it's more of a tackle. He wraps his arms around the man's legs and holds on tight, tripping him. He receives a death glare, something to discourage him from his current course of action. Still, the teen holds on. It's all the encouragement that Nathalie requires to run. She gives him one last regret filled glance before running.

Seeing her escape, Gabriel lets out a furious yell, kicking frantically at the teen who's so determined to cling on. Each blow feels like he's being stamped on by a horse. He grits his teeth, bearing it to the best of his ability. The teen tries to focus on where Nathalie is. He won't stop until she's both out of sight and has a good head start. One boot proves to be enough to dislodge him. Hawk Moth struggles back up to his feet, eyes darting around rapidly as they attempt to lock on the figure of his former assistant. She's left the building.

Dylan isn't quite done yet however. Once more, he tries his best to knock the man down. Hawk Moth is somewhat more prepared this time and the teen ends up receiving a punch to the jaw. It's hard enough to knock him down, somewhat stunned. The man doesn't even bother to ensure that he stays there. He goes to give chase. The building continues to rumble. Is the akuma still here? Most of the people have fled already. He finds the strength to get back up, running around so as to position himself firmly between his father and where Nathalie had run. The teen's in some pain but forces himself to adopt a fighting stance, fists clenched and raised ready to defend himself.

"You're not proving anything by playing hero!" Hawk Moth bellows, furious and seeing his opportunity rapidly disappearing. "Get out of the way!"

Instead, Dylan lunges at the man. In possession of an activated miraculous, his father is far faster and stronger than he can ever hope to be. It's rage talking. Causing him to stand-up to a man. It doesn't matter that he sees some stranger, a teen trying to be brave and maybe succeeding. He's fully aware that he's not thinking all that clearly. He'll blame it on the few blows he's already received. At this point, is he even trying to buy her time any more?

Rather predictably, he fairs poorly. If he's an obstacle, it's only because he's physically in the way. The teen is dealt a few punches. It's a backhanded slap which finally causes him to fall to his knees however. He stays there for a few moments, panting for desperately for breath. He takes something akin to copper in his mouth, blood from a cut on his lip. In pain, he makes the effort to get to his feet, now acting purely on stubbornness and rage. He gives the man a glare.

"Stay down!" Hawk Moth commands, raising his sword menacingly. 

Since when does his father give warnings?

He doesn't question it any more than that. If anything, he takes it as a challenge. He readies himself for an attack. There's no plan, just the primal urge to return some of the pain which has been inflicted on him.

He sees Hawk Moth lunge. A split-second later, there's a sharp pain in his right shoulder. The teen lets out a cry which he's unable to hold back. He falls to his knees. Instinctively reaching for the wound. There's blood. He can't tell if it's serious. Shaken, he looks up at the man. Something inside of him has changed. Instead of finding himself faced with Hawk Moth, he's reminded that this is his father. Somehow, that only makes it all the worse. He's a small child again, desperate and dare he say it? Scared.

With the nuisance now dealt with. Hawk Moth moves to get round him. Something seems to distract him. His face clouds over. The next thing Adrien knows, he's been swept off of his feet. He sees the ground go past at a rate of knots. His feet are no longer touching the ground. Something stops him from struggling however. The teen is dropped off a few seconds later. Dazed, he allows himself to be lowered to his knees.

He's not moved that far away. He's at the other end of the building, out of Hawk Moth's reach. By his side is Ladybug. The hero looks down at him, eyes wide with concern.

"You okay?" It seems like stupid question but one he supposes needs to be asked.

"Fine..." A lie and they both know it. "What about _Man_?!"

"She's safe. She's the one who told me about you." Her eyes flick down to fix his wound. "Use one of the emergency exits and get out of here. I'll handle this."

She leaves him a second later, charging into battle.

To his shame, he neglects to assist her. His body informs him that it needs rest. He's injured and can't possibly do anything else. Shaking, his hand travels back to his wounded shoulder. There's enough blood to cause him some concern. He wonders if he's dying. If his father's blade might have caught an artery or something. The thought causes his stomach turn.

Perhaps he would have been more concerned if it weren't for the tremors which start up once more. The teen looks up. Ladybug is on the defensive. No doubt, she's awaiting the arrival of her partner. Until then, she occupies herself with swinging from the beams, ensuring that she remains ever just that little bit out of reach but in sight so that she has their attention.

She can't win against an akuma and Hawk Moth together...

A simple realization but one which causes him to grit his teeth and get to his feet. He has to get out of here. If Dylan's here, then there's no way that Cat Noir can show up to help his friend. He's reaching for the ring in his pocket, eyes searching for the nearest exit when he hears the crack. The ground is shaking so much that it's like the earth itself might be about to split in two but this sound comes from above. The teen raises his eyes just in time to spot the crack. Its spreading throughout the entirety of the ceiling, already slabs of plaster and cement are beginning to fall.

Terror grips him.

Ladybug calls his name, frantic.

Then the world collapses.


	36. Torn apart

**_Author's note: I'm probably not going to be able to manage a new chapter everyday but I'll do my best to get a new one out every two or three days. Thanks again for the reviews._**

**_/_**

He can't move and he's breathing more dust than air but he's still alive. 

It's a conclusion that he came to a few moments ago. It's dark. There's something heavy on top of him. It weighs down most on the lower part of his back, pinning him down. He doesn't know if he lost consciousness. It doesn't feel like it. Yet the pain is slow to come. It's slowly spreading through his body. His flesh was raw in places and with every passing moment, he's increasingly aware that something is wrong.

There's just enough light to let him know that its still day outside and that he's been buried but the small crack doesn't provide enough to let him see just what's trapping him.

As soon as he's strong enough, he starts struggling, desperate to free himself. He manages to bring both of his arms out in front of him. Clawing at the dirt and debris, the teen does his best to attempt to drag himself forwards, out from the rubble which pins him. His efforts are fruitless and only serve to exhaust him. He can hear metal creak above him. The weight on his back is very slowly growing. He knows that he won't be getting out of here without help but that doesn't stop him from trying.

It's difficult for him to coordinate his actions, trapped the way that he is and unable to see just what was pinning him down, all he can do is use brute strength and hope that he's able to slip free.

There's a voice out there. Someone's shouting out his name. Instantly, he stops his struggling, listening carefully to hear who it would be. In the back of his mind was the knowledge that both Hawk Moth and an akuma were likely on the prowl somewhere out there. Curiously, he finds himself thinking that it's Marinette for a few seconds but dismisses the notion as absurd, as brave as she is, she's unlikely to be so foolish as to rush in to a collapsing building. No… It's Ladybug, she's out there, calling for him.

"Ov-" He finds himself coughing, having disturbed some more dirt. "Over here!"

It takes only a few seconds for the girl to locate him but a good couple of minutes for her to succeed in shifting enough of the debris for him to actually be able to see her. The hero is battered but seems to have survived well enough.

He too they soon discover has been lucky. The single iron beam which has landed across his back and now pins him in place is also the only thing preventing a much larger pile of rubble from utterly crushing him. It acts as a support but one which is gradually buckling, bending under the weight. Ladybug's face betrays her concern, as she contemplates the situation.

"Where's Hawk Moth?" He asks, glancing around nervously.

"I don't know. They probably ran when the building came down. Okay…" She speaks as she clearly tries to think things through. "Don't move… I'm going to try and lift this thing up."

He nods, bracing himself. He reasons that she won't be able to bear the weight for long so he'll have to move quickly. As it turns out, she can't life it period, straining to the best of her ability, the hero fails to budge it even in the slightest. As a result, she changes her approach. Tying her yoyo around the metal, she tosses it over another beam which is still keeping the ceiling up, planning to use it to assist her.

Once more, the teen readies himself as Ladybug begins to pull. This time, he feels it begin to lift. He can actually move his legs. He's about to begin crawling when there's some rumbling from above him. Some plaster hits his head and suddenly the weight gets worse. It's less of a creak and more of a crack from the beam this time. A few seconds later, there's what he can only describe as a mini landslide. He raises his arms to shield his head as plaster, concrete and cement pile down on top of him.

Thankfully, he's only buried for a few brief moments, Ladybug is quick to dig him out. Gasping for air, he remains trapped. Worse, the stress put on the beam has caused it to begin to give way faster than it had been doing previously. He was now acutely aware that he was slowly being crushed. Next to him, the young hero seems slightly more panicked. She wonders aloud where Cat Noir is. They need his Cataclysm right now. It's only momentary, then she evidently remembers that there's a 'civilian' here who will be looking to her for help and who needs reassurance. She offers him a smile, one which doesn't quite conceal her concern. She's going to either have to use her Lucky Charm or leave him here whilst she goes to get help. Both have their drawbacks…

"It's going to be okay." She promises him, her voice carries a certain confidence which does seem to be comforting.

"Ladybug..." It's becoming a little more difficult to speak. "I don't mean to rush you but-"

He stops himself suddenly as his eyes lock on to a figure emerging from the dust just behind Ladybug. Terror grips him, realizing just what is about to happen before it even does. He shouts a warning, telling her to look out. Too little, too late. Cat Noir would have been able to do something: tackle her to the ground, attack her assailant before he got to her, anything. Dylan is powerless however as Hawk Moth wraps an arm around the hero's neck, with the other he grabs for her earring. He takes her by surprise, she has no time to react. Even her yoyo is still wrapped around the beam.

He plucks one off easily. It's all he needs, her disguise begins to fade and her powers with it. There's some panic behind the girls' eyes, it gives her a second wind. She struggles and manages to kick herself free, landing in the dirt not too far away. Ladybug gasps. The hero charges forwards, desperate. It's a last ditch effort and one which Hawk Moth easily repels, kicking the teen backwards.

She lets out a yelp of pain and doesn't immediately get back up. Perhaps realizing that she's lost.

When she finally does begin to turn back around, he seriously considers closing his eyes. Their identities were one thing which they had always kept secret from one another, no matter how much it pained them at times. Seeing hers now, revealed in such a way, feels like something of a violation. As if bewitched however, he finds himself unable to turn away, forced to watch as Ladybug loses almost everything.

The face he finds himself staring at is painfully familiar and yet he feels as if he's seeing it for the first time.

"Marinette..."

He whispers the name without thinking. Of course, he's aware that his father will know who she is. So ultimately, it doesn't matter all that much.

She turns to look at him but looks away quickly, ashamed. He wants to say something, anything but nothing comes out. Even thinking seems to be an impossible challenge. Marinette is Ladybug. How can that seem to be impossible and yet make perfect sense at the same time. His attention travels back to his father. The man's gaze is cold, seemingly the fact that he knows this young woman doesn't faze him. He takes a few steps forwards, fists clenched.

His attention falls upon the remaining teen, still trapped. He frowns, as if he's seeing him for the first time. Dylan finds himself shrinking away, vulnerable. In those few seconds, he fears that his disguise might have been see through. He moves quickly standing on the teen's right hand, earning a yelp.

It must seem like just another act of random cruelty to an onlooker but the man's son knows that he never does anything without a reason.

_He's c__hecking for a ring… _Adrien realizes.

He won't find one, the jewel is still safely hidden in his pocket. The man is slightly less thorough when it comes to the left hand, simply pinning it in place with the bottom of his cane. Again. No sign of the Cat Miraculous. Dylan Lebrun isn't Adrien Agreste. Cat Noir isn't here...

With that doubt out of the way, Hawk Moth turns back to his remaining enemy. Marinette has made it back to her feet. She stands there, still defiant, trying her best to put on a brave face even when confronted by her arch-nemesis. The man seems to tower over her. He looks down, emotionless and without pity.

"You're coming with me."

It's a statement, one which leaves little room for debate. With only one earring, it's clear that Marinette is torn. She might have run, were it not for her friend suddenly letting out a brief cry as the beam gives way just a little more. Hawk Moth takes advantage of her confusion, closing the distance between the two of them and grabbing her round the wrist. The teen lets out an alarmed cry, digging her heels in. She gives the trapped teen a terrified look. Initially, he assumes that she's begging for his help.

Then, he understands: 

"Wait! Wait!" She screams, desperate as opposed to panic. "You've got to help him! He's going to be crushed!"

To his astonishment, his father actually looks at him.

For a moment, the man's expression – well, it doesn't quite soften but it's not as harsh as it was. There's the realization that this young man is in some pain, that his life is potentially in danger because of his actions. There's some hesitation there. Leaving him could potentially be a death sentence depending on how much longer that beam holds out. Hawk Moth frowns. He's giving this more thought than Adrien had assumed that he would. For a few moments, it gives the increasingly desperate teen some hope.

"I can't help him and you certainly can't." There's a steely resolution behind the statement. "Those outside will find a way of freeing him."

He doesn't give her a choice in the matter or the opportunity to either argue or plead her case any further. With only one earring and somewhat injured herself, Marinette is unable to put up anything more than a token struggle as Hawk Moth carries her off. Dylan struggles, desperately clawing at the dirt to try and free himself. He tugs until he feels like he could snap himself in half, letting out cries of pain and rage, anything to try and stop him. He hears her protests and she calls after him.

Then, both are gone and he finds himself alone.

The spends the next few minutes frantically trying to her himself out and to escape the weight which continues to grow. When that fails, he opts for trying to reach his pockets. If he can retrieve his ring, then he'll be able to transform, use Cataclysm and get himself out of here. He struggles, with the added rubble which has fallen, even shifting his arms is a challenge. He tries his best, attempting to reach his salvation which is literally on his person. He fails.

Unable to help himself, he resorts to doing the only thing that he still can and calls out. It's the voice of a frightened boy which echoes through the building:

"Help me! Please! Somebody!"

The cries go unanswered by anything other than the creaking of metal giving way and the occasional rumble as odd parts of the structure crumble elsewhere.

He can scarcely move now and the weight is making things increasingly difficult to breathe. It makes it difficult to create a commotion. He finds himself resting his head in the dirt, listening silently and praying for the faintest sound of a rescue. It gives the teen the opportunity to realize just what's happened, to reflect upon matters and their severity. If he dies here… There will be no rescue for Ladybug/Marinette – he has to remind himself that they're one and the same, yet another thing which warrants some reflection. Why did his father take her? A hostage? Perhaps, he assumes that she knows her partner's identity and where he's hiding.

There's a sudden snap and some bricks land on his shoulders threatening to bury him for good. He must have let out a yelp as a few seconds later, he hears a familiar voice he'd feared he never would again:

"Dylan?!"

"Man! Man!" His head snaps up abruptly fear and hope both giving him a new lease of life. "Help me!"

"Where are you?" She sounds closer.

"Here!"

Sure enough, a few seconds he's greeted by a familiar set of brown eyes which he knows should be blue. Nathalie is a mess dishevelled and clearly shaken but she's here and right now, that's all that seems to matter to the teen. He greets her with a relieved smile. For some reason, her presence briefly causes him to ignore his current predicament. He tries his best to reach her. Squirming under the weight upon him.

Of course, she tries to help. The woman grabs onto the beam with both hands and lifts. It's plain to see that she's putting literally everything that she has into it. He does his best to help, pushing upwards in an attempt to free himself. It's fruitless, all that happens is some more plaster and dust falls down, coating his hair and face with dirt. She gives up before he does. With every passing moment, Adrien becomes increasingly frantic. It feels as if his chest is literally being compressed. His efforts are only making things worse however, something which Nathalie is quick to pick up on:

"Okay… Okay! You need to calm down." Her voice is soft but she makes no attempt to mask her concern. "This thing isn't going to hold out much longer. Where's your ring?"

"In my pocket but I can't reach it." He gasps in some pain. "Hawk Moth, he took Marinette..."

"Marinette? Why would he-?"

"She's Ladybug!"

"Well..." It's clear that the news surprises her but she keeps a business-like face. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now-"

She's cut short by a crack. This time the beam comes close to splitting in half. The rubble atop him falls down. He hears Nathalie curse. It strikes him as odd, it's something that she never normally does. It's not a cry that he lets out, his lungs won't allow that but more of a whimper. She shields him to the best of her ability, placing her body over his head, ensuring that nothing lands on his skull. The brief grunts confirm that they hurt. Despite her best efforts, he finds himself with everything below his shoulders covered with debris.

His chest is screaming, struggling to resist the downwards pressure. At this point, his efforts are feeble. They're a part of his instinct, doing all that it can to keep him alive. Gasping for air, he finds himself to be shaking, a thousand confused thoughts erupt into his mind:

"Sorry..." He mutters, eyes closed tight. "I'm so sorry!"

"Shh…" She hushes him softly, her eyes don't leave the rubble, still frantically searching for a solution. "Don't try to talk."

"I should never have treated you the way I did." He pauses so as to take a few more gasps. "You deserve better. I- I just didn't want to be alone."

She pauses what she's doing, almost frozen. Her eyes flicker down to rest on him, expression softening ever-so-slightly. He reads behind her gaze the forgiveness that he so desperately seeks. No words need to be exchanged. She places her palm against some of the concrete before resting her head against it. The woman lets out a heavy sigh, almost as if she were actively trying to wish away the rubble. Is she admitting defeat? Adrien is too frightened to ask.

The weight is almost unbearable now. He can scarcely breathe, it feels as if his ribs are the only thing preventing him from being utterly ground into the dirt. Unless the beam breaks suddenly, he'll be essentially smothered before he's crushed. The teen's far from convinced that it's the best of the two options. Even now, he finds himself pawing at the dirt, desperate. His struggling barely even seems to register with the woman who's by his side. Frantic, he looks to her. He feels like a child, desperate for someone, anyone to tell him that things are going to be alright.

"I'm scared Nathalie..." A few tears brim behind his eyes.

"Are you?.."

He can't quite place her tone. It confuses him, causing him to stare at her, not understanding.

She doesn't bother explaining herself but he notices her face cloud over, becoming solemn. Slowly, the woman reaches into her pocket. Her fingers find something there. She withdraws it very cautiously, contemplating it in such a way that he can't see just what it is. She gives whatever the object is a regretful look before glancing back down at him, her gaze softening slightly. Whatever it is, her hand is trembling slightly as she holds it.

"Hold on to that fear. It's going to have to be powerful..." She tells him, reverting to her more business-like demeanour.

"You can't..."

"I can manifest a Sentimonster for a few moments, enough to free you." She continues as if he hadn't said anything. "The stronger the emotion, the more powerful the monster."

"You can't use that miraculous!" He summons what little air his lungs can still gather in order to yell. "There's got to be some other way!"

He protests as vigorously as he can. The prospect of her using the broken miraculous stirs up what little fight he has left in him, giving him a second wind. He struggles tooth and nail. Gritting his teeth as metal and stone scrape and tear at his flesh. Even when his body demands that he stops, informing him that he can no longer breathe, he continues to battle on as if it's his life and not hers which depends on it. When that fails, he begs, he shouts and pleads. Telling her that there has to be some other way. Demanding that she go outside to find somebody else who can call for help even though he doesn't have that much time.

She lets him exhaust himself, waits until the tears are nearly flowing down his cheeks. There's a certain look of acceptance behind her eyes which tells him his words are falling on deaf ears.

"You said you'd die..." It's more of a sob than anything else this time.

"Well, lets both hope that I was wrong but- If it's what it takes to save you then..." She pauses for a moment. "Just know, I- I-"

She doesn't finish, looking away. He sees her lips move but her words don't register with him. There's a flash of light and Nathalie disappears.

Adrien's never laid eyes on Mayura before. She's beautiful and intimidating at the same time. Her pained gaze rests on him for a few seconds. Slowly, the woman raises her fan, plucking a single feather which she blows in his direction. He doesn't even register what it rests on. He feels her presence in his mind, requesting his permission. He fights it, shaking his head and fixing her, giving the young woman one last silent plea, mouthing the words "Please. Please don't...".

Then he gives in.

He closes his eyes and lets out a final breath which he is unable to replenish. The weight finally compressing his chest to such an extent that it's now impossible to breathe. In those few seconds, as the world grows darker, he feels like it's all over. They've lost. Fear mutes everything else. Even as a great monster lifts the weight from his back. He remains unresponsive. His body is heavy. A pair of hands grab him, wrapping themselves under his arms and pulling him forwards out from the rubble which has been entombing him. He manages to muster enough presence of mind to help, his legs scrambling to push him out.

He's free.

Instinct causes him to latch onto his savior. He clings to her. Everything pours out suddenly: terror, relief, pain and uncertainty… He can't help himself. Tears flow down his cheeks. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the knowledge that his father, driven mad by the desire to bring his mother back who now has Marinette, good, kind Marinette, as his captive. The man had essentially left him to die. That hurts far more than he'd thought it would be.

"It's okay… You're okay..."

There's a gentle tenderness he's never heard from her before. She shushes him softly and runs a hand through his hair. He wants to believe her but his ribs ache and his shoulder continues to bleed. It's much easier to just close his eyes and try and block out the rest of the world. As crazy as it seems, he feels safe in her arms. Exhaustion takes hold as he allows her to lull him into a state of semi-sleep. He wants to rest, to drift off to a place without suffering where he can finally be a peace.

For a few moments, he even allows himself to dream, to imagine that he's safe.

He can't say how long he spends like that. It could have been minutes or hours. He's more aware now, eyes half-open, he stares at the debris he'd been buried under mere moments ago. Memories stir. They can't stay here… People are counting on them.

"Nathalie..." He begins but receives no response. "Nathalie?"

The teen shifts, turning round so as to look up at the woman. Her head is hanging low, she's pale and unresponsive.

Panic grips him. He jumps up, taking the woman in his arms. She falls limply. He curses under his breath, tearing the miraculous off of her so that Mayura vanishes, leaving him instead with Nathalie. Despite the removal of the jewel, he remains heavy. It would have been possible to mistake her for sleeping if it weren't for the simple fact that she isn't breathing. The teen panics, curses. He doesn't know what to do. He shakes her, desperate for a response.

"No, no, no..." The teen mutters under his breath. "You can't do this. Come on! Nathalie, please!"

She takes a gasp of air.

Dylan doesn't know what to do. Marinette is gone. Ladybug by consequence won't be coming. His father has one of the miraculouses and the one person whom he trusted to have his back and to know what to do is dying in his arms...


	37. Holding on

**_Author's note: A little heads up. I'm not going to be able to do much, if any writing next week. So I'll likely do one more chapter and then there will be the best part of a week's hiatus. Sorry about that. Thanks however to all of those who continue to read and enjoy this fic and for your reviews._**

**_/_**

Cat Noir struggles over the rooftops. He runs as fast as his legs will allow but is slowed by the weight of the woman he carries slung over one shoulder. What should have taken ten minutes is dragged out into an arduous and torturous affair. More than once, he finds himself stumbling or losing his balance. It isn't just his companion who impedes him, his own body feels off. The strength and agility granted by his miraculous can only make up for so much. The injuries he has sustained might not be all that visible under the disguise but they translate into a feeling of weakness and unease.

Somehow, he makes it back to their apartment. He stumbles in through the front door, Nathalie still drooped over one shoulder.

She's heavy, unresponsive. He's come this far assuming that she's still alive. The teen shifts slightly once he's in through the door, taking her more gently in his arms. He carries her through to her bedroom. There he manages to put her down on the bed and get her under the covers. She's pale and unnaturally cold to the touch. The only comforting thing is that her chest continues to rise and fall and he can pick up a pulse.

They had never discussed what they would do if Nathalie suffered from another of these attacks for the very simple reason that they had both agreed that she would never use the peacock miraculous again. The potential consequences were far too severe. He had asked her to stop carrying it around with her, there was no need if she wasn't going to use it and it would limit the risk of her losing it and some other unfortunate soul discovering the side-effects. She'd promised him that she'd think about it. Now, he found himself back in the same position that he'd found himself in all those months ago and had prayed he would never be in again.

At least now he knows just what the matter is and everything that he can do to make things better: that is to say nothing.

The only cure is time. Either she'll recover or she won't. He stands by her bed, staring at the woman helplessly. _This is his fault… _He thinks to himself. She's not even coughing. Nathalie simply lies there, seemingly asleep. The teen doesn't know if the woman's even aware of what's going on around her or if she is genuinely unconscious. His first thought had been to get her here, where at the very least, it was peaceful. The prospect of just standing here and waiting, praying for her to recover isn't an appealing one but he doesn't know what else he can do.

"Plagg, claws in."

It's like he's hit by a bus.

The pain is so abrupt that he doesn't have enough time to brace himself for it. He lets out a brief cry, from shock as much as anything else. His legs buckle as he's struck by a sharp pain in his chest. That in turn, is replaced by a much sharper one in his shoulder. On his hands and knees, he gasps for breath. His shirt is torn. A patch around his shoulder is damp with blood, an injury he had mercifully been able to forget about for a few moments. Now, it burns coldly. He can almost feel the steel being plunged into his flesh once more. Instinctively, the teen grips at it, hissing loudly in pain as he does so.

Plagg floats next to him, approaching the wound cautiously. He's quick to assertain the extent of the teen's injuries.

"You're pretty messed up kid." Hardly reassuring.

He grits his teeth and struggles to his feet. He's in something of a panic. He needs to stop the bleeding, at this point, his logic is based purely on what he's seen in movies and those times that Nathalie carefully tended to some of the scratches and bruises he almost inevitably acquired after facing yet another akuma. They have some medical supplies in the bathroom…

Just getting there proves to be a challenge. In his hurry, he catches his shin, on the side of the bed. He tumbles, hitting the deck heavily. His senses are dulled. Usually he wouldn't have fallen and even if he had, he would bounce back up effortlessly. Now however, he finds himself lying face down against the rug and seriously wondering if he's going to be able to stand once more. He hears Plagg, concerned asking if he's alright and urging him to get back up. He finally does, it requires more effort than it should. Shaking, he continues his way round.

"You're hurt..."

It's a weak voice but one which he's none-the-less surprised to hear. Instantly, he forgets about most of his own suffering. He continues to clutch the wound, blocking it to the best of his ability. He the blood has grown sticky but continues to flow slowly. He feels a little light-headed. His lip trembles slightly as he turns to face the woman.

Nathalie is still conscious. Just how that's possible given how much the miraculous must have leached from her is beyond the teen. Relief prevents him from asking too many questions. She's clearly not well but to his surprise, behind her eyes, he finds that the woman's still processing things properly. As such, he makes his way over to her. The woman somehow finds the strength to turn over ever-so-slightly. She reaches out, fingers gently brushing against his injury causing him to hiss and flinch. The former assistant frowns slightly, examining it to the best of her ability. Then, offers him a soft and somewhat reassuring smile:

"You won't die from this..." There's certainty in her voice, despite everything. "Clean it and bandage it up, as tightly as you can. Y-You need to get to a hospital."

"What about you? You seem better than I thought-"

"It's not done taking from me..." She notices his puzzled look and explains. "Even if I'm not wearing it, there's still a price to be paid and it has to be paid in full."

Barely a second later, he understands what she means. The woman shudders, her body tenses up as if an electric current is being passed through her. It's only brief but when it's over, she's left shivering. He pulls the covers over her. She tells him to leave her be, to tend to his own injuries before worrying any more about her.

It's been a while since he's had to tend to his own injuries. It had been relatively commonplace back in the mansion where he'd had to disguise his suffering from his father and the other members of staff. Since then, he's had the relative luxury of having Nathalie at home who knows of his activities as Cat Noir to help him through it. Being stabbed by a sword is a little more serious than any of the previous scrapes and scratches that he's come back with. Whist the wound to his shoulder might be the deepest and most severe of his cuts, upon removing his shirt, he's reminded of the fact that he was both knocked around by Hawk Moth and then buried under rubble. His skin is littered with scrapes, scratches and already, he can spot some bruises beginning to form. That's to say nothing of his ribs which continue to ache.

He remembers how Nathalie deals with these things: first, wash hands thoroughly. He spends another five minutes applying pressure and filling the bathroom waste bin with gauzes. He knows what his father had intended to do: give a brief, sting of a warning, enough to discourage him from getting back up. Had the man intended to cause more damage, he would have done so by aiming for somewhere more vital or driving the blade in just a little bit further. Pain was a powerful deterrent. With the bleeding stopped, he's able to apply some antiseptic. He whimpers loudly, hands shaking. Finally, he manages to bandage it up. Plagg's assistance is required to ensure that it's wrapped tightly.

It's a painful process that he repeats for the myriad of other smaller scrapes and scratches which cover his body and legs. Had this happened to Adrien Agreste, his father would have been furious. There was no way that he could model like this. Whilst not particularly prone to vanity, it does cause the teen to wonder if he's going to have any scars as a result of this ordeal. To finish things off, Dylan downs a couple of painkillers, it's probably not best practice but it's all he can think to do to fight the aching of his bones and muscles and the sting from his torn flesh.

Returning to Nathalie's side is a priority. Despite everything, he rushes. There's only a few feet which separate the bathroom from the bedroom but it seems like miles when he can't see the woman.

Even in the quarter of an hour than he's been tending to his wounds. She's grown weaker, turned paler and slipped that little bit further away. Her eyes rest hazily on him, clearly only just aware of his presence. Still, as he enters the room, she seems to stir becoming restless. Her strength has diminished to such an extent that she can't even do something as simply as raise her head. He can see her lips move, desperate trying to utter some words. Shaken out of his torpor, he joins her a few seconds later:

"What is it?"

"Hidden-" At this point, she can't even manage full sentences. "Behind fridge..."

He doesn't question, nodding quickly and obliging. The teen dares to hope. He dreams that she might have foreseen something like this happening and has some sort of cure hidden somewhere or at least a number he can call for assistance.

Perhaps she hadn't anticipated him being injured when she'd hidden whatever it is behind the fridge. For all that they've been complaining about limited storage space, he finds himself struggling to shift the device. Even the kwami has to offer his assistance to get it out. In a small space, he finds a brown envelope it's sealed. He's quick to carry it back through and attempts to hand it to her. He gets a shaken head which he struggles to interpret for a few seconds before catching on:

_Open._

Curious, the teen obliges. With a feeling of such urgency, it's hard for him to remain calm. There's something relatively heavy inside. He can feel it moving around. Adrien reaches his hand in. He knows what it is before even pulling it out. Although this might be the first time he's held so much of it in physical form in his hand outside of Monopoly. The pile of notes is held together by a couple of elastic bands. There's a mixture of twenties, fifties and large number of one hundreds. He can't possibly count it all up but there's got to be a few thousand here. He turns them over and discovers a small piece of paper, with the number 5 000 inscribed.

Not understanding, he gives the woman an incredulous look. She nods back inside the envelope. Sure enough, there's more to be found. Starting with a smaller letter, this one still sealed. It bears a single word "Mamita". This one she shakes her head to, forbidding him to open it. Instead, he plunges his head back inside a second time and finds yet another paper, this one addressed to him. She gets another nod.

_Read_.

So the teen obliges. It's a letter. From Nathalie – who else? - to him, written out by hand. There are no scratched out words or corrections, indicating that she'd written it all in one. Either that or she'd prepared it beforehand on a draft and this is just the final version. He reads it in silence, his heart in his mouth as he goes:

_Adrien,_

_If you're reading this, something has happened to me. I'm either dead, captured or incapacitated with no hopes of recovery._

_Whatever happens, don't panic. You're going to need to work quickly and you can't do that if you're panicking. _

_What matters now is your safety. There's no way that I can account for all potential eventualities in this letter. So here are just a few basics._

_If I'm dead and you have my body. Destroy it. Cataclysm should work. It's the only way to stop the police from sniffing around. _

_If I'm captured. Forget about me. Just leave. Follow the rest of these steps and try to forget about me._

_If I'm incapacitated… You're going to have to leave me. _

_You've probably found the money. There's more than enough for you to head down south. Head to the address I've written on the other envelope. It's a small place. There's an old woman who lives there. Give the letter to her. It explains everything. You can trust her. She'll look after you. _

_I'm sorry that I'm no longer with you but you've got to stray strong. _

_Please do this one last thing for me. Forget about everything and everyone else and save yourself._

_No matter what else happens, run. Get yourself out._

_Do it quickly._

_Nathalie,_

She didn't sign it. He finds himself wondering just when this was written. Had she jotted it up almost as soon as they arrived or is it a good deal more recent?

Adrien reads it and re-reads it and re-reads it again. Each time, it's like another blow being struck to his heart. Tears brim behind his eyes as he realizes the implications. At this point, Nathalie's weakness is such that she can scarcely even keep her eyes open. They're resting on him though, a pained look on her face. She knows how much he doesn't want to do this, just as she knew when she wrote the letter. It's an impossible thing to as of a boy she's spend the past few months raising, arguably more. He shakes his head in defiance, grinding his teeth as he struggles to hold back tears.

"No! No! No!" Practically shouting, his resolve is firm. "I can't leave you!"

"I'm dying Adrien..." Her voice is broken, little more than a rasp.

"No you're not! You can't!"

Whether it's the emotion, the painkillers he took or his wounds catching back up with him, he ends up collapsing next to her. The teen cries loudly. Plagg does his best to comfort him. With the last of her strength, she allows her hand to slip out of the bed so that it rests somewhere on his shoulders. Somehow, the action only serves to make the pain worse. He takes her hand, clinging to it as if it's the only thing still keeping the two of them together and determined not to let go, no matter how much she might tell him to run.

He's emotional. How many times has she told him that much? Today, he doesn't even try to deny it, not caring what she thinks about him or his outburst.

"I can't lose you! It's not fair! You're not going to die! I won't let you!"

Nathalie smiles. He can't place the emotion behind it. Is it sorrow? Pain? Or might there be something else there, something which he has never seen before, love?

She can't argue any more. With what little remains of his world feeling as if it's dying, Adrien refuses to move, refuses to give up on one of the few good things he still has left in his life...


	38. Muddied waters

**_Author's note: As promised, another chapter. Again, I'm really sorry but I'm probably not going to be able to write anything for a while. So the next chapter will likely be coming at the weekend. So apologies to all those reading and thanks to those who leave reviews. I hope to get back to the fic as soon as possible._**

**_/_**

The sun has set. This is all taking too long.

In his lair, Hawk Moth is impatient. He's been ready for hours now and still nothing. He'd rushed back here, assuming that Cat Noir's arrival would be imminent but time had trickled by and now he finds himself doubting if he's going to show up at all.

Perhaps he overestimated his son's courage or his affection for the Dupain-Cheng girl. Nathalie, he realizes would no doubt also be playing a part, pulling the strings from behind the scenes. He grows angry at the mere thought. He has the ladybug miraculous. Better yet, its former holder is now his captive and therefore no longer a threat. It's further than he's ever gotten before. His only regret is that he failed to put an end to the Sancoeur problem altogether. In many ways, he felt that she was a greater threat than Cat Noir. She was clever, manipulative in her own way. She would think rationally. Cold as she was, she might even succeed in convincing Adrien not to come to his friend's rescue, making him believe that it was already too late for her…

Doubt makes him irritable. Time is marching on and with it, his window of opportunity diminishes. Cat Noir could find help, go to the Guardian and come back with some of his allies. He has a hostage but he's far from convinced that he could fight off three, maybe four - if Mayura was to enter the fray - miraculous holders.

He grumbles a curse under his breath. It causes a figure in the corner of the room to give him a nervous glance before quickly looking away when he turns his attention towards them.

This isn't something that he's particularly thought through very well. It had been a spur of the moment thing. He'd seen an opening, a chance to pounce and taken it. It was something that had been going round in his head for a while. The notion that Ladybug and Cat Noir's greatest weakness might very well be one another had occurred to him on more than one occasion. Naturally, that meant that he had to exploit it. He'd taken Marinette. Without her miraculous, she'd been vulnerable and he'd known that he was unlikely to be presented with such an opportunity again. So he'd swept her up, taken her here.

That was where his scheme had hit a slight snag.

Given that this hadn't been planned for, he doesn't actually know what to do with the girl now that she's here. He can't let her wander round the mansion. Equally, he has no real way of restraining her. He finds himself wishing that he'd invested in some handcuffs. So, she's left sitting around in his lair. Without her miraculous, she's not a threat to him. Whilst for the first hour or so, she'd been pretty frantic. Demanding that she be let go and constantly trying to steal her jewels back. Now though, she's grown quiet and isolates herself in the shadows.

From time to time, she lets out a strange sound, one which he can only equate with a sob.

It's late, he reasons, she's likely hungry. Teenagers need food, right?

The man hasn't much of an appetite himself but decides to try and eat something anyway. He gives his prisoner a brief glance. She's not going anywhere. He moves steadily over towards the elevator. She follows him with her eyes but otherwise doesn't react. He says nothing, leaving her up there. There's no escape. She won't be able to open the window and he sees to it that the elevator is locked behind him and cannot be called.

In his office, he takes a chance and transforms back. He can't very well go and tell the cook to prepare two meals as Hawk Moth. He finds the man with several pots on the boil. Staff in the Agreste household are expected to be ready to do pretty much anything within a few minutes notice. As such, he doesn't have to wait long to be presented with two dishes of restaurant quality meals. No questions are asked as to why there are two portions. Perhaps the chef wonders about the matter or more likely he just ignores it. Gabriel doesn't particularly care so long as he doesn't start snooping around.

He's been burned once already.

Upon returning to the lair as Hawk Moth, he's faced with Marinette desperately pounding at the glass. She won't break through. So he doesn't worry about it. There's fear in her gaze as she fixes him. He pays little attention to her. Contenting himself with placing the plate down on the ground and leaving it for her.

"I suggest you eat."

The teen eyes him uncertainly, fearfully. He ignores her, returning to his study where he can eat in peace. He refuses to do so in the company of a stranger. The solitude offers the man the opportunity to think, to plan.

It's strange that his son hasn't revealed himself. He'd been anticipating an almost instant reaction. In fact, he'd been rather surprised when Cat Noir hadn't made his presence felt during the Grand Palais. Now, it would seem that he was reluctant to come to his friend's rescue. That left two possibilities: either Adrien was unaware of what had happened and consequently would need to be reminded or more likely, Nathalie was pulling strings and had succeeded in convincing him that an attack would be fruitless. Yes, he could imagine that his former assistant was that throne in his side which was preventing his designs from coming to fruition.

It isn't a big issue. He knows how 'heroic' Cat Noir tends to be. It shouldn't take much to convince the teen to come out of hiding. Even if Nathalie Sancoeur tries her hardest to stop him, he won't let an innocent suffer. After all, with Marinette Dupain-Cheng now his prisoner, he has quite the leverage. A part of the man hopes that it doesn't have to come to such drastic measures. As far as teenagers go, the aspiring fashion designer seems to be relatively meek and well-intentioned. She probably doesn't deserve to be put through all of this and whoever gave her the miraculous should be ashamed of themselves.

The man eats in silence. It's something he's gotten used to. The large image of his wife hangs nearby, her gaze resting upon him. He waits an hour and a half before deciding to go back to the lair and retrieve the plate and cutlery.

He's rather surprised to find that she hasn't touched it or the water that he left for her. Hawk Moth frowns, glaring coldly at the girl as if to try and force her to eat. Again, she shrinks away, seeking to stick to the shadows as much as possible as if they would protect her. He fixes her for a few moments, full of disapproval. She's going to make all of this more difficult than it has to be, he can tell that much already.

"Aren't you going to eat?" She shakes her head vigorously. "Why not? Answer me!"

"I'm not accepting food from _you_." The teen hisses under her breath.

"It's not poisoned." He makes the effort to soften his voice, seem somewhat less threatening, anything to make this easier. "I won't harm you."

"You already have..."

She's angry but speaks quietly, in such a hushed tone that he has to strain his ears to hear just what she's saying. He frowns, growing irritated once more. Years of isolation have made him struggle to relate to others, especially teenagers. Whilst he's more or less inclined to dismiss anything that the girl might say to him as being nothing more than emotional ramblings of an upset fifteen-year-old, he hesitates none-the-less. The accusations are comparatively serious. He's not too sure what she's referring to. He'd taken some care not to hurt her. Whilst it had been impossible to avoid some injuries when the building had collapsed, they amount to little more than a couple of scrapes and no doubt what will become a few bruises.

Fixing her coldly, he straightens himself, clutching his cane tightly:

"What are you talking about?" His tone is harsh, impatient, he has no time for such foolishness and never has.

"Dylan..." He raises an eyebrow, puzzled. The name doesn't ring a bell. "My friend. You just left him there..."

Instantly, the image of the strange boy pops into his mind.

Yes, he had met him before. He'd been with the aspiring fashion designer when she had designed that jacket. Even by Gabriel's standards, he'd found the teen to be abrasive. Cold, distant… In short, something of a brute, a thug with little to no respect. Not the sort of boy he would typically have assumed would be welcome company of someone like Marinette, whom from the few encounters he'd had with her, he deemed to be gifted, hard-working, kind-hearted and trustworthy, if a little scatter-brained. Perhaps she liked bad boys, he hadn't questioned it. Quickly dismissing the teen as little more than a product of a decaying society and the sort of low-life that he would never have allowed within five-hundred yards of his son.

He was there at the Grand Palais. Gabriel hadn't even seen him but he must have been in the crowd somewhere as he'd attacked him, trying desperately to rescue Nathalie, a woman he seemingly didn't know. The boy's viciousness but moreover his tenacity had raised a few questions in the man's head.

Those eyes weren't his son's. Adrien's eyes were a perfect green. Much like his mother's. It's not just the color. It was the anger, the rage which burned beneath them which felt like they were those of a stranger. Still, his actions, seemingly so selfless had caused the man to wonder. Eyes could be concealed behind lenses, hair could be cut and dyed. His son had the advantage of going through a period in his life which would, in theory, see him transform from a boy into a young man. His body and features could easily shift over the course of a few months.

So he'd found himself suspecting that this teen, rough though he was, could have been his son. It seemed preposterous but he'd taken the precaution of checking none-the-less. He'd been more than slightly relieved to discover that he didn't wear a ring.

No, it would seem he was just a thug. A brave one however. He wasn't about to deny the boy's courage.

Gabriel's jaw clenches tightly. It's tempting to tell her that whatever the boy's fate, he had it coming. Only a fool took on a miraculous holder when they themselves were nothing more than a meagre civilian. He himself had warned the teen, given him ample opportunity to turn away and flee like everyone else in the building. By playing 'hero', he may very well have condemned himself to an early grave. The man reminds himself however that he needs to try and keep her calm, if possible docile (although he doubts that's going to be possible). So instead of letting anger do the talking, he explains his reasoning in as calm and detached a way as possible:

"I couldn't have helped him. Just like you couldn't." He turns the accusation against her. She too had been powerless.

"You didn't even try!" Marinette raises her voice. "He was trapped and you didn't even raise a hand to help."

"Someone else will have. There were others outside." The man reminds his prisoner. "The authorities will have gone in to search for survivors as soon as you and I left and I called back my akuma. They will have had the equipment to get him out."

"You couldn't have known that!"

Admittedly, there is a lot of supposition in his statements. Even now, he doesn't know. He hasn't checked the news, being too preoccupied waiting for and anticipating any potential rescue attempts from his son.

He lets out a frustrated sigh and heads over to the only table on the room. His tablet sits there. It's a good way for him to follow the outside world without ever having to set foot out there. He enters the pin code, keen to put an end to this madness by easing the teen's mind. He knows that whilst the Parisien authorities generally trust the city's heroes to defeat the akumas, they don't just stand-by and wait idly. They play their part in limiting collateral damage and ensuring that there are no civilian casualties. It's a task they've become rather proficient at during the course of the past year or so. He's given them a fair amount of practice after-all.

"I'll put an end to this foolishness right away..." The man informs her as he brings up a news feed.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the press is all over the newest akuma attack. They're wondering just where Paris' heroes have gotten off to. Cat Noir hasn't been seen and Ladybug was only briefly glimpsed by some of those who were fleeing the building. All very interesting but hardly helpful… It does seem to indicate that his son is staying away however which is going to potentially force him to get his hands dirty when it comes to getting him to show himself.

For the time being, Gabriel tries not to dwell on that. Contenting himself with turning up the volume, ensuring that the girl can hear for herself the proceedings. It's Nadia Chamack who is on scene. She seems tired and looks to be pale. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is confirmed missing, her parents are actively searching for her. They appear, watching the efforts of the fire department to go through the wreckage. It suddenly dawns on Hawk Moth that her parents will be wondering where she is, perhaps fearing the worst… The woman continues, telling the tale of just what occurred. Why hasn't the damage been reversed by Ladybug if the akuma is on all accounts, no longer a threat? The woman becomes graver as she continues reading the official statements:

"The building collapsed entirely a few hours ago. Due to the chaos during the initial attack, it's unclear if anyone was left inside. As of yet, nobody has been recovered from the rubble..."

There's a slight gasp. He glances over to the girl to see her cover her mouth, desperately trying to hide her emotions from him. She fails. He can see the tears brimming behind her eyes. If they couldn't free the boy from the rubble before the building collapsed then… Gabriel shakes his head, determined not to think about that particular scenario.

It's not impossible, he reasons, that Cat Noir got him out.

A quick scan of Social Media is called for. Naturally everyone is talking about the akuma attack. It's hard to make sense of it all so he goes to a site that he knows is likely to yield some results. The Ladyblog is rather surprisingly empty. The only post is one desperately seeking information about the whereabouts of two individuals. It boasts a large picture of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She's with the journalist girl and that other boy – Bubbler… What was his name again? - it doesn't really matter. It takes the man a few seconds to notice that his prisoner isn't alone in the photo. Standing next to her is a young man. She has her arm looped through his, almost as if she's dragging him back into shot. Some might initially have mistaken him for appearing to be irritated but upon closer inspection, there's a tenderness behind his eyes, which he could easily be trying to hide. It's there none-the-less.

An uneasy feeling comes over him all of a sudden. He feels somewhat sick. Were they really that close? He had assumed them to be little more than acquaintances, friends at most. His mouth dry, Gabriel glances back towards the teen. She's sobbing as silently as possible, desperate trying to muffle any noises that she might make. Marinette might be safe but the boy – Dylan, he won't forget that name as easily as he does others – is dead, crushed by the rubble, if not by that which had pinned him then by the rest of the building when it had collapsed. He suspects its only a matter of time until the authorities uncover his body.

Is that boy dead because of him?

No of course not. A voice inside of his head informs him. It's his fault. He tried to be a hero instead of doing what any sane person would do and running. He'd given him more than one opportunity to flee. Even when he'd made himself a nuisance, rather than running him through – a task which would have been easy for him – he'd opted for a minor flesh wound; a quick jab to discourage any more heroics… It's Dylan Lebrun's own arrogance and stupidity which has gotten him killed. His akuma had merely been the catalyst. Besides… Despite what Marinette claimed, there was nothing that he could have done…

Still, for a while, all he see is the fear and desperation behind the teen's eyes as the weight above him had slowly crushed him. Hopefully, when it came to the boy's actual demise itself, it had been over quickly… The man finds himself thinking. Crushed ribs, he would either have suffocated or perhaps bled internally. Neither were particular pleasant ways to go. With any luck, the structure had come down on him. That would have been a far faster end.

The tears which Marinette sheds are familiar to him. He'd shed similar ones when Emilie had drifted into her eternal sleep and watched from afar as Adrien had wept after being informed of her 'disappearance'. Much like then, there's a part of him which wants to comfort the teen, to let her know that it was okay to cry… He doesn't however aware that it would be both inappropriate given the circumstances and unwelcome. The man does his best to steel himself but finds himself lacking the required resolve.

He turns off the news feed. It's done enough damage for the day.

Hawk Moth is about to leave. There's nothing else that can be done. He reaches into his pocket and finds the ladybug earrings there. How much has he sacrificed for two such tiny jewels? All this in the name of love… A thought occurs to him suddenly, it gives the man some hope. He turns back to face his prisoner. His voice is calm, attempting to sound as removed from the situation as possible.

"If he means so much to you, as a show of good faith I'll bring him back."

"Wh-" Her voice is quivering. She hiccups. "What?"

"The Miraculous of the Ladybug, together with that of the Cat can grant any wish, as you well know." He's aware that she's got at least some grasp of the powers and possibilities the jewels offer. "Once I've made my first wish. I'll make another or you can. You can have your friend back..."

She fixes him with incredulity for a few moments. It's not something that her captor is saying to try and make her more easy. He's genuine. His motivations aren't entirely unselfish. Bringing him back would wash his hands clean. He could actually look Emilie in the eye.

Strangely, it's neither relief nor comfort which seem to take over the teen but anger. Rage at what he'd perceived as a kind offer. The tears are still pouring down her cheeks but her expression is different. For a moment, Gabriel wonders if she might actually be about to attack him. She actually moves out of the darkness, leaving that little spot which she's claimed as her own safe space. Her eyes are red from the tears which she's shed.

"Like that would make everything okay!" The girl is yelling, practically screaming as everything gets too much. "You can't just undo what happened!"

"You underestimate the power of the miraculous-" He tries his best to remain calm and appear to be unfazed by her outburst.

"There's a price!" She snaps, cutting him short. "Don't you know-"

"Of course I know!" It's his turn to yell, losing his patience abruptly. "-but would you honestly prefer your friend to remain dead than some random stranger you've never met take his place?!"

The teen doesn't answer, letting out a slightly louder sob as tears flow down her cheeks once more. She doesn't look away however. In her gaze, emotional and tearful as it might be, he reads a challenge, a defiance which lets him know that even without her miraculous, there's some Ladybug still inside of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

It's not something that he expects. There's a silent message behind what she doesn't say: are you happy to take another's life? He feels uneasy. A defensive anger bubbles under the surface. It takes quite a lot of self-control not to give in to his instincts and slap the teen across the face if it will mean that she's silent. He clenches his teeth and straightens himself, storming back over towards the elevator.

It's essential that he gets out of here.

"Eat your meal!" The man commands harshly as he turns his back. "You won't be getting anything else and if I were you, I wouldn't pin too many hopes on a rescue!"

He's gone a moment later.

Emerging into his office, he's quick to shed his disguise. He can breathe again. It's a release. He finds himself gasping. Desperately trying to shake off the lingering anger. There had been a time when Gabriel Agreste was a quiet and shy young man. When had the rage started to come? Probably when the word had started to take from him. Especially when it had decided to rip away that which he held most dear. First Emilie, now Adrien is nowhere to be found. There's no telling what Nathalie's done with him or made him do. The boy is so terribly innocent and naive.

He turns around and faces the painting of his wife. He needs it. It reminds him just why he's doing this. What he's fighting for. There have been casualties yes but he can bring them back. Make all of this nothing more than a bad memory. He has one half of the key. The other is somewhere out there, just waiting to be found. As usual, Emilie brings him comfort, pain, courage and sorrow.

There's something new however. No matter how much he thinks back to those brightest of days and the love which had filled them. The face of a trapped and dying teenager lingers behind his eyes. Rather than Emilie's soft laughter, he finds himself listening to the boy's pained whimpers and frantic pleas.

Why are those eyes haunting him so much?


	39. Letting go

**_Author's note: Back again and hoping to get more frequent chapters up. Not too sure if this is the end of the fic and I'll post a new follow-up story or if I'll just continue on here._**

**_/_**

It's night now. Adrien doesn't know what time exactly. It doesn't really seem to matter any more.

He's cold but can't bring himself to do anything about it. It feels like all of his strength has been sucked clean out of his body. The painkillers have done a decent job of easing some of his suffering but are beginning to wear off. It's breathing in which is the worst and his shoulder continues to sting.

Plagg's more worried about it than the teen is. At this stage, Adrien's gotten to a point where he no longer cares. He just wants to rest. To close his eyes and allow the rest of the world to fade away. In short, he seeks peace. It's constantly eluding him. Sleep, is tantalizingly close and yet painfully far away. His eyes might be closed but he finds no comfort. Neither is he awake enough to be able to think clearly. He's only just clinging to consciousness but somehow despite his efforts, unable to slip away entirely. Helpless, the teen can scarcely move. His limbs were heavy. They refused to respond to his commands.

Is he recovering or just dying slowly? He can't tell.

The face of a girl being dragged away tears threatening to spill down her cheeks is omnipresent in his mind. Her desperate expression remains etched behind his eyes. Sitting there, he's helpless but to relive the events which had lead him to find himself here. He feels useless. There's some part of him, albeit one which is forced to remain trapped in some distant part of his mind, cut off from the rest of his body which demands that he do something, anything. Marinette needs to help. There's no saying what Hawk Moth will do to her if he feels that the bait is taking too long to attract the fish.

Right now however, he's beaten and can't move. His body has all but given up and perhaps some of his spirit too. Try as he might, he can't see any way out of this.

_No matter what else happens, run. Get yourself out._

He glances over to where Nathalie lies. Her hand still hands down over one end of the bed, resting against his cheek. She's completely unconscious. The only sign that she's still alive is the fact that her chest continues to rise and fall. Adrien isn't a doctor. He tried checking her pulse. It had seemed weak to him. The slumber she's fallen into is a deep one and one which instinct tells him, she could very well not awake from. Plagg's warned him that unlike his mother, without the proper medical facilities, if she slips into a coma it will almost certainly prove to be fatal. A responsible person would have checked. Tried to see if she was still responding to at least some stimuli from the outside world.

Closing his eyes, the teen desperately tries to hear her voice. He wants nothing more than to have her tell him what to do. He needs her guidance. Nathalie always seems to know just what needs to be done and how to go about it. If she was still awake, then there's little doubt in his mind that he wouldn't be sitting here uselessly like this.

"Kid… We can't stay here."

Plagg's been pestering him for a while now.

Tired green eyes rest on the kwami but still don't respond. _What's the use? _The teen's gaze seems to speak for him. _I can't do anything…_

Hawk Moth has won. Adrien's almost tempted to go back home and hand his miraculous over. Maybe that would be best. He could negotiate. Convince his father to allow Marinette to go free. Perhaps they could even work something out, find a way to save Nathalie and his mother. Even that prospect however fails to motivate him enough to move. Instead, he closes his eyes, eager to slip back into that state of almost non-existence. It's easier than having to contemplate the situation only to realize that he's helpless.

"Come on! You think this is what they would want?!" This time, Plagg sounds angry, flying in his face in an effort to get him to wake up. "You think that Ladybug risked her life to save you and that Nathalie sacrificed as much as she has just so that you can sit around here like this?!"

"I can't do anything Plagg…" Adrien mutters eventually, shaking his head slowly. "I'm useless."

"You can try!"

He continues to shake his head negatively. Eyes closed once more in the hopes that he'll be left alone.

It's then that he feels something hurts his cheek. It's not much, something akin to being stung by a bee but enough to cause him to snap back awake. He finds himself faced with Plagg. The kwami is angry. Perhaps that's not the right term for it. There's disappointment there, perhaps even some distress. Maybe that's what prompted his friend to slap him across the face. The teen stares at him shocked for a few seconds.

"You can't just sit here Adrien." The kwami informs him. "Marinette and Nathalie need you..."

He closes his eyes, taking another deep breath which causes his chest to hurt once more.

Plagg is right. He knows that he is. The authorities won' t be able to do anything. They are unaware just who lies beneath Hawk Moth's mask. They won't even know where to begin looking for Marinette. Even if by some miracle they are able to find her. They won't stand a chance against his father. That's if they're even looking for the teen. He's not even sure if people think she's missing or dead. Given that the building has now collapsed, they'll probably start assuming the worst. He shifts slightly, remembering what it had been like to find himself trapped under all of that rubble, slowly crushing him, squeezing the very life out of his body.

If it hadn't been for Nathalie, he'd be dead right now.

The teen turns his head to face the woman. She's only just clinging to life. Her sacrifice might have freed him but at what cost? It's clear that she's still slipping away. The teen doesn't know just how much of her strength she spent summoning the Sentimonster which saved him but it's enough to put her at death's door. Perhaps even send her beyond it. He's not too sure just how far gone she is right now. All he has to base himself on is that she's stone cold and even breathing seems to have become something of a challenge.

He finds himself thinking back to the moments that they've shared during this adventure: good and bad. They'd been on somewhat uncertain terms towards the end. _His fault…_ He accepts that much now. Regardless, she'd always been there for him. She'd been prepared to sacrifice everything for him, having already given up so much. He doesn't even know why. She's never been prepared to answer the question when he's asked it.

Nathalie Sancoeur can't die… Adrien doesn't think that he'll be able to continue on without her by his side to guide him.

He puts both of his hands on the end of the bed, using it to try and pull himself up. His legs are heavy and weak and struggle to bear even his own weight. He lays eyes on the face of the woman who saved his life and his heart breaks. Somehow, just being alive isn't quite enough...

"Come on..." He mutters softly, unashamedly begging, legs trembling. "I can't lose you."

To his astonishment, her eyes open just a crack. She's looking at him. Her lips move ever-so-slightly and he realizes that she's trying to talk. The woman is mouthing the same thing again and again. It takes him a few seconds to realize just what she wants.

It's with a second burst of strength that the teen gets to his feet. His left leg has begun to play up, forcing him to mostly hop into the kitchen. There, he gets a glass and fills it with water. Bringing it back to her. She's too weak to move. Even bringing the liquid to her own lips is beyond her. So he slips a hand behind her neck and props her up. It's with the greatest care that he offers her the drink. Tentatively, she takes a few little sips. Despite both their best efforts, some still gets spilled. It would seem that the woman can only manage a few tiny little mouthfuls at a time.

She starts breathing more rapidly, concerning the teen. It's only then that it becomes clear just what she's exerting herself for:

"Why haven't you run yet?" Her voice is little more than a whisper.

"I won't leave you." The teen's more sure this time, firm in his resolve.

"Adrien..."

"Don't try to talk." He advises her aware how much effort even uttering a few syllables requires from her.

"Hmph..." It almost sounds like some sort of amusement. "Are you in charge now?"

"Well, I-" He hesitates for a moment, somewhat flustered before replying in a soft voice. "You told me I should be being more responsible, right?"

Despite everything; she should be in agony, dying and using every scrap of strength that she has remaining to force herself to stay awake and to avoid slipping into a coma from which there would be no recovery, instead she smiles.

It's a sad smile. She doesn't want to be in this position – who would? But something about her demeanour is almost comforting. It's as if she knows where things are going from here. He hopes and prays that she does. There's some pain however, not just physical. She's struggling to stay awake. If she slips away, there's no guarantee that she'll wake back up. So Nathalie is determined to use the last of these precious few moments to speak with the boy whom she has watched grow up. She lets out a soft sigh. Her gaze softening as she fixes him:

"If you can do that, then you don't need me any more..."

"Of course I do! I need someone to tell me what to do." The teen is desperate, almost frantic. "Who's going to stop me from doing all that stupid stuff? I can't trust Plagg… He's a terrible influence."

"Sure am!" The kwami perks up, hovering by his partner's shoulder. "The best worst influence around!"

"I need you, _man_..." Adrien speaks softly, begging her.

The woman lets out a sigh and closes her eyes. The teen holds his breath, wondering for a few terrible few seconds if she might have just slipped away. Thankfully, her gaze is back upon him a heartbeat later. The way that she fixes him, it's as if she's weighing up her options, contemplating the benefits and disadvantages. He gives her a pleading look. He needs the woman who's got him this far to stay with him. Any notion that he doesn't care – not that it existed in the first place – is quickly dismissed.

"I'll do what I can." Is what she finally replies.

He offers a smile. It's all that either of them can do.

Letting out sigh. He chooses to sit down on the bed. The woman doesn't object to him taking her hand. It's not much but it's enough to let her know that she's not alone right now. It's as his eyes turn round to the floor where he'd allowed her letter and the money contained within the envelope to drop that something suddenly dawns on him. It's a vague notion. A little blurry in his exhausted mind but it has at least some merit. The teen's still thinking the details over when he declares quietly:

"I think I might have an idea..."

There's no choice but to leave her be for a few moments. Initially, he had been planning on using his own phone. Quickly though, he realizes that it's smashed, crushed in his pocket whilst he was trapped. Nathalie's is still operational. So he uses it.

The teen finds to his surprise a familiar background. It's Dylan and Delphine, the evening of the barbecue. A pained gaze lingers on the image for a moment. He'd had a bit of alcohol in his system at the time he'd taken the snap. Not much… A bottle of beer. His first. No doubt it had something of an effect on his inhibitions. Prompting to be a little bit bolder and to take a risk. She'd consented to letting him take the snap. So he had. There they were. Mother and son for the world to see. In a way… He understands what Nathalie had meant that evening when she'd refused to talk about the possibility of them staying as their aliases forever – a subject the woman had known would lead to an argument. Still, like him, it would seem that she hadn't been able to entirely let go of that evening.

It hurts him. How desperately Adrien wants to go back…

There's no time to linger on the past however. Tonight, he has to work quickly. He dials the number, knowing it off by heart. To his surprise, he gets an almost instant reply, despite the late - or should that be early? - hour. It's a grumble though. The lack of actual French is somehow reassuring to him. Taking a breath, he readies himself, fully aware that there will be no going back after me:

"Hey, Gorilla… It's me, Adrien. I- I need your help."

Less than half an hour later, there's a car parked outside. It isn't a limousine but a much smaller family car. Brown eyes contemplate it and its driver in silence for a few moments. He's alone… His bodyguard is a good man.

Having downed a few more painkillers, the teen readies himself for the challenge to come. They're still on the twelfth floor. There's no way that Nathalie can make it down them by herself. So he's going to have to carry her. Not easily when she's so fragile and he's so weak. The teen's wrapped her up in a blanket, ensuring that she stays both comfortable and warm. Trembling slightly, he slips his arms under her and picks her up. Almost every part of his body complains, hardly surprising given where he'd been only a few hours before. When it feels like his ribs are about to snap, he stops. Cursing and hissing in pain.

He has no choice but to transform. It gives him a boost, a high. The strength that he needs to get her out of the apartment and down the stairs to where their knight is shining armour is waiting. He changes back for the last few steps, not wanting to risk Cat Noir getting spotted and ignoring what his body is telling him.

Gorilla meets him with a mixture of surprise and concern. No doubt he's quick to access the damage. Adrien had been as concise as possible on the phone. It's a lot for anyone to take in: Hawk Moth, Mayura… The poor man had been oblivious. Now, he's here for them. It's a gamble. There was always the chance that the bodyguard would panic and go to his boss or that Gabriel would be suspicious. It would seem that they've managed to avoid both. No doubt his father's got too much on his plate right now to worry about his staff. In that respect, they might be safe.

It's not ideal but it's all they've got.

He opens the door. Allowing a straining Adrien to get her into the back of the car. Somehow, Nathalie is still conscious. She's confused and no doubt not functioning entirely properly but she's still awake. Still hanging on… It's all he can ask. The teen buckles her into the back of the car. He's struggling to breathe but tries his best to conceal it. He should be rushing. Every second they waste is one which takes them potentially nearer to disaster. Instead, he finds himself slowing, trying to make a few seconds stretch out to last for minutes. Nathalie seems to sense it: his fear and reluctance:

"What are you going to do?"

"Hawk Moth…" He mutters through gritted teeth. "Someone's got to stop him."

"You're weak..."

He doesn't bother arguing or denying the fact. Instead, he pulls away, slipping out of the car. It's abrupt but he's not sure he'd be able to say "goodbye" if he stayed any longer. Already the prospect fills him with terror. As a result, he turns back to face his former bodyguard. The man's expression is gentle, compassionate but also concerned. The state of the battered teen whom he was once in charge of, hasn't escaped him. Adrien's acutely aware that he must look terrible, he most certainly feels it. Taking the opportunity of a moment's peace and calm to catch his breath, he braces himself against the car.

Hands trembling, he pulls out Nathalie's letter to "Mamita" it's stamped with an address and hands it to the somewhat confused bodyguard.

"Can you drive her here?" He's forced to pause in order to take a few breaths. "I know it's far- But it's safe… Here, this should about cover the gas, right?"

He hands the man a stack of the money which Nathalie had left him. Is it a bribe? Probably.

To his surprise however, it barely even seems to register. Instead, his bodyguard points at the teen and then at the car. Even at a time like this, it would seem he's not one for words. Adrien's not entirely sure if he's being told to get in or if Gorilla's offering him a lift. The teen shakes his head negatively. No… He can't go with them. He's kept Marinette waiting long enough as it is. It's time for Cat Noir to do what he does best…

In an effort to try and prove that he's still capable, the teen pushes himself off of the car which he's been using to help support himself. Instantly, a sharp pain strikes his ribs. He gasps, which only makes matters worse. Collapsing onto his knees, he tries his best to regain some sort of control of himself. He can't be this weak... Gritting his teeth, Adrien tries his best to soldier on through the pain, ignore it to the best of his ability by focusing on the face of the girl who needs to be rescued.

"Adrien..." Nathalie gasps concerned.

A pair of strong arms pick him up. They're gentle but firm, carrying him over to the car. He protests mutely. For a few instants before being dropped off on the seat next to Nathalie. Powerless and increasingly concerned, he lets out a soft whimper. Applying pressure to his chest makes things worse, so all he can do is hope that it will come to an end if he doesn't move around too much. He struggles as the man gets into the driver's seat and locks the doors, becoming distressed and somewhat frantic.

"Stop it!" He finds it in him to shout, promptly regretting the action. "I-I've got to help-"

"Adrien..." It's Plagg who speaks to him, doing so softly. "Like this, you'll get yourself killed."

"I can't just leave her." He wheezes, desperate.

"You can't help her. Not like this. You need time."

Tensing up, he curls into a little ball. He could become Cat Noir, take the door off, it would be easy. Something stops him however. Perhaps it's the knowledge that if he does and confronts his father, he'll barely be able to stand. He might as well hand over his miraculous…

Letting out a sigh, his gaze drifts out of the window. The city lights are still burning. Out there somewhere, likely in the mansion, is Marinette. She'll be scared and potentially desperate. Praying for a rescue which now won't be coming. Nathalie has fallen asleep once more. Her breaths are one of the few things which allow him to focus on the world. He's not alone. He watches as he leaves his home. It feels like he's abandoning everyone he loves and all those who have placed their hope on his shoulders.

Maybe he is… All he can do is make a single solemn promise:

"I'm coming back..." He mutters quietly under his breath. "I'm coming back..."


	40. Altered reflection

**_Author's note: I should be back to a chapter every one or two days, I hope. Thanks again for the reviews._**

**_/_**

Daybreak was both impossibly quiet and deafeningly noisy. Whereas in Paris and larger cities, the streets would be full of cars, buses and people making their way to work from the earliest hours. Out here, it was mother nature that woke up. It seemed like the very fabric of reality began to buzz. He's heard so many different kinds of birds here and to his ears, it seems like every one of them has a different song to sing. It's quite beautiful really…

Green eyes drift over the rocky hills and mountains. The sun's just coming up.

He doesn't have an alarm clock. No such thing in this household apparently. In summer, it's not too bad. Winter though must be more of a challenge. Silently, the teen slips out of his bed and the small room which has become his own. He gets his shower, muttering a quiet "good morning" to the elderly woman who owns this place. She greets him in return. It's a certain routine which works well for everyone involved. He knows his part and isn't about to complain about it.

Warm waters wash away the nightmares and flow over scarred skin. The teen barely even notices the marks across his body now. Slipping his clothes on - a simple tee-shirt and some tattered jeans are more than sufficient - he exits the bathroom. A quick glass of water is all that he takes before he slips out of the front door and onto the porch. He's met by the enthusiastic barks of a shepherd dog. With a smile, the teenager gives the animal a pet. The dog accompanies him as he gets onto an old bicycle.

It's a short cycle ride to the village. A sleepy place which by some miracle, time seems to have forgotten. It's like anything much past the 1960s didn't quite happen and almost eerie as a result but peaceful…

He stops off outside of the bakery, it's the only one in town. The teen enters. There's already someone in there, one of the local farmers. So he gives a polite "_bonjour_" and waits patiently. His gaze travels round the bakery. It's only a small place. Naturally, he ends up finding something to distract him. It's today's paper, on sale. He's going to buy one – he always does - so takes the liberty of picking it up. It's hard to miss the headline.

PARIS IN CHAOS. AKUMA ATTACK DESTROYS HALF OF THE 7TH DISTRICT.

He's grown accustomed to the bold headlines and the shocking pictures. It's almost impossible to escape them these days. Still, the young man can't help but let out a sigh as he takes note of it. He scans the picture. Taking note of the terrified civilians fleeing from their lives as yet more of their home is torn apart by some lunatic. After all this time, it's hard to believe that it's still going on and that there's still people living in the capital. On all accounts it's hell…

"I feel so sorry for them."

"Huh?" Somewhat startled, he looks over to her.

"The parisiens…" The girl serving clarifies. "I feel so sorry for them having their home destroyed like this."

"Yeah…" The young man mutters as a response. "It makes no sense..."

"I keep hoping that one day we'll hear that Hawk Moth's given up. I wonder why he's doing all this..."

"Money? Power? What does it matter?" The slightly older of the two teens declared. "He's not afraid to hurt people which means it can't be anything good."

The girl nods slowly in response. Such a topic is a gloomy one for so early in the morning so the customer decides to try and avoid it. She'll be able to hear about it on the radio, in the papers, on television and on pretty much every internet forum available.

Instead, he orders his bread. There's a routine for that as well. It's a Tuesday, that means time for a good and thick "_pain __à__ l'ancienne_". She obliges, cutting off the required amount and slipping it into a paper bag. From the back of the shop, he can hear the girl's parents working. One of them is preparing to run some baguettes down to the local retirement home. The two teens end up chatting. That too has become something of a routine. There's surprisingly a lot to talk about in such a tiny village, especially given that the two were strangers up until recently. She smiles brightly and laughs kindly. It's enough to bring a slight smile to the other teen's face, breaking through the melancholy which sometimes seems to linger around him, like clouds.

"How's your _man_?"

"Better… Thank you."

"That's good. What about you?"

"Well, I've still got my arm…" He rolls his shoulder as if to enforce the point. "So _Mamita_'s got me watching the goats all day."

"Sounds peaceful."

"Yeah… So long as you don't mind climbing up trees to get them when they get stuck."

The girl laughs, evidently the image in her mind is an amusing one. Her companion finds himself somewhere else which is already beginning to feel like a lifetime ago. Maybe it is… She even has the exact same laugh… How is that even possible? He smiles softly, feeling a painful nostalgia take over him.

They part ways shortly afterwards. He has to be getting back to the farm. Bread, _viennoiseries_ and newspaper in his bag, he hops on his bike and makes a couple more stops to pick up some more groceries before heading back home. He's learned to be careful of the dog. It has a bad habit of jumping up at him as he cycles in.

The teen comes in. Dropping off the supplies and indulging in some breakfast before being dispatched outside. The old house benefits from a strong young back and a decent pair of hands. He carries heavy loads, sweeps but most importantly watches goats. It's not a task he'd ever envisioned himself doing. Initially, when he's given a stick and told to guide the animals into the hills, he assumes it's a joke. It's not. Someone has to be there to make sure they aren't stolen, pestered, preyed upon or more likely, get themselves in trouble. So he spends hours up there, watching the animals gaze. The baker's daughter wasn't wrong. It is rather relaxing. It allows him to gain a sense of perspective…

He eats his lunch up there in the hills with a small but strange creature. He's happy. Living on a farm famed for it's goat cheese, whilst it might not be Camembert, suits his friend just fine. They chat about things but never the past. It's true. There is plenty to be thought about but nothing that the teen can bring himself to face, not when he already knows what the implications are.

So he watches the goats. Does what ever's required of him without the slightest hint of a complaint. The only thing he struggles with are the chickens. He can collect the eggs but nothing else. Cleaning them out inevitably results in endless sneezing. If he lingers too long, the symptoms are naturally worse. When the sun begins to set it's dinner time and he returns, bringing with him all of the goats, even the ones which have managed to get themselves stuck up a tree… He eats with the women he shares a home with and then goes to bed. It's a peaceful routine. He's known far worse. More importantly, it's a distraction.

That evening is different though. As the sun begins to set he doesn't make the trip back down. Some of the goats begin to do so of their own accord, perhaps realizing that they'll be safer in their sheds. Perhaps it's the smile the baker's daughter gave him. It's painfully familiar and despite his best efforts, he can't help but remember just what he's lost.

He closes and thinks back. Wondering just how he came to find himself in a strange place which is now becoming his norm...


	41. As the sun sets

**_Author's note: Thanks again for the reviews. Last chapter might also have been shorter because I confess I was a bit sleepy when I wrote it. Not my finest work... I might go over it again._**

**_/_**

Adrien watches the sun begin to set. His mind is elsewhere. He finds himself wondering if out there somewhere, Marinette is doing the same. She's been waiting far too long for a rescue. Perhaps the only person capable of providing it is sitting on a hill at other end of France. He toys with some blades of dry grass in between his fingers.

His gaze focuses on the horizon. Out there are a million demons which he needs to face. Perhaps the greatest of them all is Gabriel Agreste. Hawk Moth waits, as waiting is all he can do. He needs the Cat miraculous. It's disappeared along with its owner. The akuma attacks are a desperate attempt to provoke his son into showing himself. It's an endurance test. Either the villain will grow tired or his child will be unable to bear the sight of the destruction any longer. It's a gamble. With every passing day, things are getting increasingly blurry.

The teen wants things to be clear and easy. Sitting there however, he's unable to make any sense of it. Everything is noise and confusion. Adrien and Dylan blend together into this strange new life he's found himself living these past few days. He's not sure what's stranger. The fact that he's playing the role of a goatherd or that he finds that it isn't all that bad of a life… He's confused. Torn between surrender and wanting to fight. Were things different, if so much wasn't riding on his decision, if it were just a matter of avoiding his father, he feels as if he could comfortably stay here. Allow Adrien Agreste to be forgotten and make what he can of his new existence…

"Come to try and put right the wrongs of the world have you?"

The young man smiles softly acknowledging the fact but doesn't turn around to face them. His mind is elsewhere, back at the beginning.

The terror seems so far away now. Nathalie was at death's door or so it had seemed. He'd spent the last two hours clinging to her hand, begging her to stay with him. She'd slipped away into unconsciousness and had appeared to be struggling to breathe. When the car had pulled up, Gorilla had taken her in his arms whilst the teen had rushed up and knocked on a door, a stranger's door. The old woman had come and they had managed to get the woman into her bed. That had been the worst thing. Initially, he'd had no idea of just who this elderly person was. Upon seeing the state of the casualty, she'd flown into near hysterics. It was only then that Adrien had realized that they were related.

It had taken a lot to convince the elder that she couldn't be taken to hospital. Although evidently distressed, she'd eventually relented. For two days, Nathalie had slept. Only awakening for the briefest of moments so as to be given some water. Throughout the whole period, he'd found himself wondering if she was going to wake up at all.

Slowly however, her strength had returned and on the second evening, she'd regained some form of consciousness. It had been a painfully slow recovery after that. For the first week, she was utterly bedridden. Even something as seemingly mundane as moving her arm had required what appeared to be an impossible amount of strength. It had been an unpleasant spectacle to behold. Every day, he had wished for her to recover just that little bit faster. It was difficult for him to see the woman he usually turned to for guidance so evidently helpless. After a week, Nathalie had at least been able to move around somewhat. Then the infernal coughing had begun.

At least they'd been able to blame her current ailment on the flu. The symptoms matched up well enough.

She still coughs from time to time but has passed the threshold of being terribly ill. Now, it's more of a nuisance than anything else. One which she's eager to pass off as being nothing to worry about.

The woman settles behind him. She appears to be relatively relaxed, perhaps sensing that he needs to be allowed to think matters through. Neither of them are stupid. She doesn't need to say anything to know just what's on his mind. Given the current situation, there's only a handful of things that it could be. She knows not to push. Allowing the teen to try and make sense of things by himself and figure out what he wants to do now. Rushing would be as foolish, as it would be dangerous. She knows as much as everyone that they can't afford to take chances.

They've been lucky in the grand scheme of things. It could have been far worse for the two of them.

Letting out a sigh, Adrien takes a chance. He does something he would never have dared to do even six months ago. He leans back, lying down and rests his head against the woman's lap. She tenses up for a few seconds, evidently surprised by the gesture. Nathalie fixes him for a moment but doesn't scold him. He offers her a somewhat apologetic look, ready to sit back up again if necessary. Even in her best moments, the woman's not overly fond of physical contact, generally she shies away from it. Tonight however, she makes an exception, giving him a slight smile. Silently, she grants permission and he dares to allow himself to relax.

"I'm tired." He announces, eyes closed.

"'Tired' as in you were up early and have been working all day or we need to think about the doctor again, 'tired'?"

He doesn't answer her. At least not directly.

The damage done by the collapsing building but moreover that curtsy of Hawk Moth had seen him making an emergency stop at the local A&E at the end of his first week. The injuries, both to his ribs and stab wound had proved to be. He can remember running a fever. The pain in his shoulder, rather than getting better had been deteriorating. He'd tried his best to ignore it. Telling himself that it was just the stress catching up with him. Besides, he'd had better things to worry about. So he soldiered on until his condition had been too much for even an exhausted former assistant of Gabriel Agreste to pick up on.

Everything becomes faint past the point that he'd found himself struggling to stand. What little he knows, he was told either by Nathalie or her grandmother.

The doctor was called after he'd practically collapsed. He can't even remember that. One of the few things that remains clear in his mind is Nathalie by his side, even that seems somewhat vague, as if part of a dream. Despite her own suffering, she'd tried her best to get his temperature back down, dabbing a wet cloth against his forehead. The doctor had come. Quickly diagnosing an infection and recommended getting him some proper help.

So it was that he'd been bundled into the back of a van, driven by a man by the name of Joseph and they'd left into the night. It was a good hour and a half to the hospital but it had all passed in a haze. He'd spent a few days there apparently. He was lucky. Ignoring his wound much longer could have had far more severe, potentially fatal consequences apparently, as the doctors inform him several times, effectively scolding him for his negligence.

The infection was one thing but his ribs were cracked as well, a parting gift from the collapsing building it would seem. He'd been forced to come up with an excuse. He'd been on his scooter and come off. The wound on his shoulder? He'd been unfortunate enough as to catch himself on a piece of an old plough. The rest of his cuts and scratches? He'd rolled. They seem to buy it. It's one of those strange situations where the truth is so fantastical that he doubts that anyone would have believed it. He's informed that in his delirium he'd called for his _Man_ well over twenty times. He can't even remember it.

It's then that he discovers another thing about rural life. Everybody seems to either know or at least have heard of everyone else. It's the case for one of the nurses.

"You're Nathalie's little boy, right?"

"Yes..." At that point he hadn't been too sure what their cover story was.

"You look like her." What to even say to that? "We used to go to _college_ together..."

He's there a few days which seems like far too long. The staff of the small hospital are more than friendly and try to make sure that he's comfortable but he's still unable to properly relax. When he's finally discharged. He feels like he's escaping prison.

Adrien knows it must have been bad. Nathalie had hugged him when he got back. Quite spontaneously as well. She'd gotten to her feet upon seeing him, wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in close. No doubt part of it was due to the fact that she herself was beginning to recover. Enough at least to process what was going on. It was enough to prove to all those who had witnessed it that they were mother and son.

_Dylan Sancoeur_… His third identity. Somehow he finds it doesn't fit too badly.

He lies there thinking of both of the past and the future. His wounds have healed. Nathalie is no longer in any danger. There's only one thing that's keeping them here. He looks up at the face of the woman to whom he owes so much. She glances down at him, patient as always. She'll wait all night for his decision if that's what it takes or maybe like him, she finds some enjoyment and relaxation in the quiet seclusion of the sun setting over the mountains...

"We could do it, couldn't we? Just live like this forever. Gabriel would never find us..." He closes his eyes and dreams for a few blissful moments. "He's got to give up eventually… We could just wait it out here."

"And what would Dylan Sancoeur do with his life?" The woman humours him. "Tend to goats?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Monsieur Lemont offered to take me as an apprentice..."

"A mechanic?" She sounds surprised, amused by the prospect.

"I like cars..." The teen argues back.

"Okay..." She concedes the point to him.

The woman tentatively runs a hand through his hair, brushing some of his locks out of his face. It's more affection than she's ever shown him before. Brought on by fear no doubt. They've both come so close to losing one another, it's managed to break down some of the barriers between them.

Adrien lets out a sigh. The song of the crickets is almost deafening and the sun is setting, setting the sky alight, turning it into a sea of gold. It's not the first time he's watched the sun set before here or back in Paris. It feels different however. As if something is finally coming to an end or a head, he can't quite tell. Reluctant, he does his best to hold onto it for just a little bit longer but is powerless to prevent himself from letting out a heavy sigh:

"I can't though."

"No..." Nathalie speaks softly, understandingly. "You're not at peace..."

He's not. Out there somewhere, Marinette needs him. Paris as a whole, needs someone. Even if he falls and loses his miraculous, at least Hawk Moth will stop. At the very least, his return will bring an end to the suffering of those he left behind, one way or another… It's not a thought that he likes to linger on, fighting his father. Even now, a part of him screams that it's wrong.

He clings to those last few moments of serenity as the sun sets. Allowing himself to dream of the life he might have had, had others not been depending on him.

"I'm going to miss this." The teen declares with a heavy heart. "Not sure I'm ready to become Adrien again..."

"You are." The woman assures him glancing to the boy's kwami who has remained quiet throughout. "And I don't need to remind you that you're not alone."

"You can't fight." His eyes open abruptly, concerned by the implications.

"Not as Mayura..." This time, both are sure that the consequences would prove fatal. "-but there's no way that I'm letting you face your father by yourself. If nothing else, you're going to need someone to drive you."

The teen doesn't argue. He thinks about it but the prospect of having to return and it fills him with such dread that he almost passes off the notion as folly. No… He needs Plagg and Nathalie. He doesn't think he has it in him to do this alone. Maybe it is selfish of him to let her back in. It's almost cost her her life already. Someone more responsible might haven insisted that someone who'd put themselves on death's door and was still showing the occasional sign of it should sit the rest of what was to come out.

He doesn't though, instead turning his gaze back towards the horizon. Back towards where Paris lies and whatever is to come...

"I guess Nathalie Sancoeur and Adrien Agreste are going home..."


	42. Darkness falls

**_Author's note: Once more thanks for the reviews._**

**_/_**

Paris seems to still be on its feet.

The traces of the cataclysm which has befallen the city are omnipresent. There's every reason to be afraid but people are still in the streets. There are very few tourists, it has to be said but as for the actual inhabitants of the city, they all seem to be going about their lives as if nothing ever happened. It was incredible what some people can get used to. Everywhere he looks, he finds damaged buildings and burned cars. Perhaps more impressive, there are people cleaning them up. Not just the police and fire departments but also regular construction companies.

It would seem that rebuilding after the periodic catastrophes has become something of an everyday occurrence to the locals. Thankfully, Akumas hadn't been on the attack every day but unimpeded by Paris' heroes, their rampages had been all the more destructive. Many had fled but equally as many didn't have a choice and had been forced to continue on with their lives as best as they could.

All of this because of one man…

A rare anger courses through Adrien's veins as he contemplates the city. This had been his home. It's only been a few weeks and now, there's scarcely a street which doesn't show some signs of his father's insane vendetta. All this torment must mean nothing to him. Cat Noir should have stopped this a long time ago. How many people have suffered as a result? Marinette, her parents, Nathalie and countless others throughout all of Paris and likely beyond. No, the man has to be stopped. He will be stopped. His own son will see to it.

Nathalie is sleeping silently. The amount of sleep that her body now seems to require is likely a good indication that she hasn't completely recovered from her ordeal.

The drive back north has taken quite a lot out of her. Not that she's complained. Both have decided to rest. They need to get a feel for the city. After such a prolonged absence, Nathalie has cautioned him to be careful of his father.

"He'll be desperate… That will make him unpredictable."

There's little doubt about that much. Still, Adrien finds himself impatient. Somehow, being back here is a reminder of all of his failures. He can't help but imagine just what it's been like for Marinette. Where even is she? Everyone assumes that she was dead, alongside Dylan Lebrun and his mother. There's a makeshift memorial which stands where the building had come down. He's seen it; covered with flowers, little notes and pictures to remember those who have been lost. Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng must be heartbroken. A part of the teen wonders if she's even still alive.

He's expressed his doubts once to Nathalie and Plagg. They assure him that she's likely fine. Gabriel has many faults but he isn't needlessly cruel. In the sense that he won't inflict suffering on another unless it immediately suits his purposes. He has no reason to kill Marinette…

Those are the words which Adrien repeats to himself all day. They've taken shelter in the rafters of an old church. The building's been damaged by the akuma attack but is stable enough for them to use it as a base. All they have for company are some pigeons and the occasional bat. Something which to his surprise he discovers his companion isn't all that fond of. She's a bit unnerved by the creatures apparently. He doesn't question it.

It's a little after mid-night by the time that both are awake and ready to move. They've had something to eat. Staring out over the city, it's a sense of apprehension which grips Adrien. They have a plan. It's simple though and relies on the fact that after so long, Gabriel likely won't be expecting the two of them to sneak in. He'll have given up hope. Their priority should be retrieving Marinette.

"She's the perfect hostage… She's Cat Noir's partner and Adrien's friend. He'll hide behind her if he can. Which is why we have to get her out of there."

The teen nods in agreement. The challenge is going to be finding her. According to Nathalie, there's only two places that he could realistically be holding her. The first is his 'lair' and the second is the repository. It's unlikely he'll be taking the risk of having her running around the mansion where she could potentially be seen or find some other way of letting the outside world know of her presence. They're unlikely to be able to get the Ladybug miraculous back. He'll almost certainly have the earrings on him at all times. So rescuing their previous owner becomes the priority.

With her safe, they'll be able to plan things more easily.

"Are you ready for this?" Nathalie asks Adrien, noting how silent he's been.

"Fighting Gabriel- my father?" The teen shakes his head, unsure how to respond. "I want to be. I wish I could say that I'm looking forwards to it but..."

"He's still your father." She fills in for him.

He nods once in agreement, glad that she can at least somewhat relate to what's going through his head. In practice, they shouldn't actually be about to fight Hawk Moth. The plan is to avoid him. Adrien's far from convinced that he's skilled enough to take on the villain by himself and without the power of the peacock miraculous to fall back on, Nathalie will be of precious little assistance, as will Marinette be. It's a stealth and infiltration mission first and foremost.

Still, there's a somewhat ominous atmosphere hanging overhead. Neither have said as much but both are acutely aware that a lot could go wrong.

"Nathalie…" He can't help but turn back towards her. "_Man_… Are you sure that you want to come?"

"We've been over this already." Her voice is both soft and firm. "There's no way I'm abandoning you. Besides, you're going to need me to help you sneak past security."

"It's just..." There's no delicate way to phrase this. "We might die..."

"Please Adrien. You're going to have to be the optimistic one because I'm no good at it."

The comment earns a smile. Plagg is ready. Even the usually lazy kwami seems to agree that the time has come to put an end to all of this. He transforms. It's easier for him to carry Nathalie than it is for both of them to contemplate sneaking up to the mansion.

Adrien knows that the security is not full-proof. He's been able to sneak in and out of his home many times in the past. What's more of a challenge this time is that Gabriel will likely be watching. Sure enough, they find that some of the more vulnerable parts have been reinforced. A few still remain however and with Cat Noir's agility, it proves to be easy enough for the two of them to sneak in. They tread slowly. The hour is early and the chances are that the man is fast asleep. Still, it's not worth the risk of being careless and getting caught.

So they tiptoe round.

It's strange to be back inside of the mansion. Last time he'd been here, it had been with Nathalie quickly ushering him out the back door in the dead of the night. They'd crept out but now they found themselves sneaking in. Ironic… He'd been confused at the time and scared. The teen's eyes rest on the figure of his father. It's a terrible portrait which hangs over the stairs. Just why his parent had ever thought it was acceptable is beyond him. He's never heard a decent word said about it.

Nathalie calls out to him. Urging him to join her as they make their way into his father's study. Quietly, like thieves in the night. They make their way over to portrait of his mother. He knows what secrets it hides. The woman told him about the lift. He stands where she tells him to. She'll join him in a few moments, she promises. He doesn't argue. Closing his eyes as the ground seems to swallow him. It's pitch black but he can feel himself moving.

Finally, he emerges into a vast cavernous space. Stunned, the teen staggered forwards into the room. A second later the elevator vanishes, no doubt going back for Nathalie. It's a somewhat awe-inspiring place that he finds himself in. To think that it was under his feet for years and he never even suspected… Despite the urgency, Adrien can't help but look around. There's vegetation here. In fact, the whole place, as odd as it is, doesn't feel as oppressing as he had imagined Hawk Moth's hideaway would be. It's almost… Serene. A garden as opposed to a lair.

There's something ahead of him. It takes up the centre of the room. The teen squints, trying to make out just what lies before him. It looks like a coffin…

Nathalie comes up behind him a few seconds later. She finds the boy standing there, immobile. His eyes fixing straight ahead of him, stunned, unable to even articulate. She approaches slowly. He doesn't even seem to register that she's there, too engrossed in what he's seeing or rather whom. He'd been given no warning of what to expect to find here and so was unprepared to lay eyes on the figure of someone whom he'd no doubt assumed he would never see again.

"Is that?-"

"Yes..." The woman lets out a soft sigh. "We don't have much time. You should go to her."

If his first few steps are slow, tentative as if he fears that he might fall through the Earth itself, the next ones he breaks into a full charge.

The teen stops a little short of the coffin/pod thing – he's not entirely sure what it is. It doesn't matter all that much. His attention is focused on his mother's face. She hasn't changed in the slightest since the last time he'd laid eyes on her. It's with a childish adoration that the teen fixes his sleeping mother. For a moment, he's a little boy again. The fact that she's in a coma doesn't quite seem to register, at least initially. Slowly, he reaches out, resting his palm against the cold glass. He doesn't get a response from the woman. He wasn't expecting one. Torn between joy and pain, the teen lingers there for a few seconds.

"Can I… Have a minute?" He requests softly.

"Of course."

Nathalie affords the boy's mother a pained look. In truth, she doesn't know just what had put her in such a state. The miraculous of the peacock to be certain but why was she using it? Gabriel had never told her. She wonders if he even knew himself. Not that it matters right now at any rate. The woman is fading away slowly but surely.

Marinette was never going to be down here. To Gabriel, this is pretty much hallowed ground. He would never even contemplate keeping a teenage girl captive here in front of his wife. Mostly out of shame. Adrien needs to see his mother though. Given that there's no saying just what's to come, she reasons that it's only right they be given an opportunity to reunite. Watching from afar, the woman feels compassion for all parties. It's hard to believe that Emilie Agreste deserves this. Her son most definitely doesn't. If she wasn't in a coma, then her husband would never-

Enough wondering about such issues… There's nothing that can be done to change the past.

Still, despite her best efforts, Nathalie can't help but think that Emilie was lucky to have been loved the way that she was.

The woman tries to give a grieving son some space. Instead, she tries to find something to distract herself with, all the while keeping an eye on the time. She locates it in the form of some wires running across the ground which weren't there before. They look relatively new. The surrounding foliage hasn't quite had time to grow over them. They're heavy duty enough to spark her interest. So she follows them round. It's unlike Gabriel to change anything other than the flowers here… The woman doesn't expect to find anything.

As she walks behind Emilie's pod however, she notices a faint yellow light and frowns. This isn't supposed to be here.

Somewhat unnerved, the woman tiptoes round apprehensively. She's not too sure what can be found there but fears the worst. As soon as her eyes lock on to the source of the dim light, the woman stops dead. She's frozen in horror. There's no threat here. No Hawk Moth or other monster ready to kill them. Somehow, it's worse. She feels her blood turn cold.

"Oh Gabriel..." The woman mutters, mindlessly.

Something inside of her breaks.

The air seems to have turned cold. She can't move or even think. Her mind won't allow her to comprehend what she's seeing, perhaps willing her not to see it. It's like the earth has stopped moving. There's no anger or disappointment. She's unable to process that much. To Nathalie, time loses its meaning. She could have stood there for rest of time and likely still not been able to react appropriately to what she found herself in the presence of.

"Nathalie?.." Somehow, Adrien must have sensed the change. He sounds timid, uncertain. "What is it?"

The teen peers round his mother's pod. Where Nathalie now stands is a somewhat secluded part of the repository. He approaches her side nervously. It only takes few seconds for him too to become transfixed. Stuck down with trepidation.

Gabriel was a practical man and dearly devoted to his wife. There was always a chance that something would go wrong with Emilie. So it was that he insisted upon having contingency. Not once had Nathalie ever imagined that he would use it though and certainly not in her darkest nightmares has she pictured that he would resort to such an act. It's hard not to look away, to try and deny that a man she once worked for and to her increasing shame once actually had some feelings for, could ever do such a thing. She can only imagine what his wife would say if she knew that the same pod which was to be used as a back-up to keep her alive, was now being used in order to imprison a child...

Still in shock, Adrien finally manages to utter just a few syllables, recognising sleeping the face behind the glass:

"Marinette..."


	43. Safety

**_Author's note: Slightly shorter chapter today I'm afraid but more on the way. Thanks for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a sleeping beauty behind the glass.

She's perfectly motionless. Lying there, eyes closed and clearly unaware of her surroundings. Maybe she is dead. The thought crosses Adrien's mind. There's something of an unnatural peacefulness about her. She's resting. It's horror that grips him. He finds himself trembling from the shock. It's impossible to look away. He finds himself thinking back to the kindness that she'd shown him, her seemingly never-ending patience with Dylan Lebrun, all of her selfless heroics as Ladybug… Her soft laugh echoes through his ears.

She's the best of people and she's fallen victim to a monster.

He wants to free her, to shatter the glass and take her in his arms, let her know that she's safe now and that nobody can hurt her any more. Cat Noir takes a few steps forwards. He's trembling so much that he finds himself struggling to stand. He could easily collapse. Stretching out a hand, he reaches for the girl's features but encounters only the glass. He remains frozen there. Eyes filled with horror as he fixes his friend.

Unable to stand-by any longer, he readies himself. If he's careful, he should be able to destroy the pod without his cataclysm harming its occupant.

"Wait!" Nathalie sees what he's about to do and cuts him short. "Destroy the pod and you might kill her!"

"What?" He stops himself, turning to face the woman.

"We don't know what he's done to her… Destroy the pod, you'll take out the life-support. The shock-"

She doesn't continue. There's no need. Cat Noir relents.

Instead, he turns back towards the teen. It's hard to tell if she's even breathing. It's a mixture of fear and a feeling of powerlessness which dominates him. Despite Nathalie's warning, he's still eager to free his friend. It's hard not to give in to his instincts and shatter the pod. He's growing desperate and frantic and as a result starts looking around for any potential solution. Surely, these things aren't a permanent prison for the occupant… What's even wrong with Marinette to begin with? A thousand questions begin to circulate through his mind and he starts to imagine the worst… So he turns back to his only companion, the one person he prays has some of the answers:

"She's okay though, right? Just sleeping..."

"I-I think so." Nathalie sounds… Shaken. It's not something he's accustomed to hearing from her.

The woman moves slowly to the side of the pod. She's seems unsettled. Is it shock, weariness or fear of what she might discover? The woman heads over to a small screen attached to the pod. She activates it and keys a few things in. Almost instantly, she has access to several charts and as far as Adrien can tell monitors. One of the few things he can recognize is a heartbeat. She's still alive. That single piece of information allows him to breathe a little more easily. Nathalie continues contemplating the data in silence for a few instants.

It's probably less than a minute of waiting for her diagnosis but it seems to stretch out forever:

"As far as I can tell she's just sedated. It's a coma but a very mild one."

"Can we wake her up?" It's not a question so much as a request.

"In theory…" She left a pause, thinking about his next course of action. "Just… Wait a few moments. We've got to be delicate."

He doesn't have any choice but to take her word for it. Adrien stays next to the pod, his hand resting on the glass as if to try and provide some comfort for its occupant. Nathalie works as quickly as possible. In her mind, she's acutely aware that they don't have long. On the other hand, she can't rush this. One mistake and she could easily end up killing the girl trapped inside. The entire process is rather complicated and from the few glances over to the screen that the teen gives, he can't make head nor tail of it. He's nervous, growing ever more anxious by the second.

"You know what you're doing?"

"Yes. Your father ensured that I knew the basics of how these things worked and how to monitor those inside in case something ever happened to him."

A few seconds later, there's a hiss from the hydraulics. Adrien stepped back quickly, giving the door room to swing open. It did so slowly. There was a strong odour, almost clinical, reminiscent of antiseptic released from the inside. Cat Noir's first instinct is to try and drag her out of there, to bring his friend out into the open air. He stops however as his eyes latch onto what looks like an armband around her wrist and an IV drip feeing into the veins of her wrist. Once more, the teen turns to Nathalie, hoping, praying that she will know what to do. The last thing that he wants to do is hurt her.

Sure enough, the woman steps forwards, taking control of the situation. She's a bit faster this time, moving efficiently. She unstraps the teen, lowering her down so that she might rest in her friend's arms. Then, quickly but cautiously, she frees the girl from the wires and the drip. Blood begins to flow freely from where the needle had been. Apparently that was something that Nathalie had neglected to take into account. She's quick to dart off. She returned soon afterwards with medical supplies, no doubt here in case of emergency.

"Hold this against her wrist." Nathalie instructs, placing a cotton gauze there, applying pressure with his thumb.

"She isn't waking up..." The teen can't help but note.

"We've unplugged her but there sedative is still in her bloodstream." The woman explains, quickly checking the girl's pulse. "It's going to be a while before she wakes up."

Adrien doesn't say anything. His eyes fall back upon the girl in his arms. She's heavy and unresponsive. At least he can hear and feel her warm breaths… It's proof that she's still alive. She seems frail however, vulnerable. He should never have let this happen to her. His father is a monster… He truly is.

Slowly, the teen pulls her in close, holding her against his chest. It's as if he's shielding her. Protecting her from all of the harm which might still be coming for her. Nathalie watches compassionately but equally with some fear. They really need to be getting out of here. She waits a few seconds, hoping to allow her charge to get over the shock of what he's witnessed and pull himself together to a sufficient degree to begin functioning properly once more. He's going to be difficult to deal with if he's emotional. The way that he clings desperately to Marinette speaks of the bond between the two of them and perhaps some of his own guilt.

She leaves him as long as they can sensibly afford. Tentatively however, when it's time to go, she reaches out a hand and places it on his shoulder, applying some gently pressure. She feels him tense up, flinching almost as if she'd hurt him. He glances at her over his shoulder, the look behind his eyes is one that she's never seen before. Rage, pure and simple...

"I'm going to kill him."

The words come out of a snarl, the likes of which she'd never heard from him before. It's an oath. He's breathing rapidly. If he were a dog, he would be foaming at the mouth. It's strange but for a few moments, she finds herself reminded that this is Gabriel Agreste's son. There's something about him that very much reminds her of his father: an anger, a determination to not let anyone or anything get in the way of what he perceives as being right. It's as formidable as it is terrifying. The teen rages silently inside but has no one to unleash it against.

Nathalie can't help but think that's probably a good thing on balance.

She stares at him, unable to think of just how to react. Gabriel's temper tantrums are something generally best avoided. Adrien's? She's not willing to put it to the test, not here and not now. Not when he's got a very valid reason to be angry and when the cause of his rage could easily come down to join them at any moment. Instead, she gets to her feet trying to maintain control and get them out of here whilst it's still possible and there's still time.

"Come on." She tells the teen. "We need to get out of here."


	44. Pale dawn

**_Author's note: Sorry for the delay. I got caught up with things! No more long delays, I promise. Well... I'll try to avoid them at any rate. Thanks for the reviews._**

**_/_**

It was easy to slip Marinette out of the mansion. Too easy… Nathalie has spent the rest of the night keeping a weary yet careful watch to ensure that they've not been followed. To her surprise but considerable relief, everything outside is still.

She's exhausted. It's too hot, as is often the case in Paris in the summer months and they don't have any fans or air conditioning up here in the rafters of the abandoned church. She wants nothing more than to lie down and try and get some sleep. Right now, it feels as if if she were to close her eyelids, sleep would find her instantly. The woman forces herself to remain awake however. It's not an easy task when she finds herself both without a supply of caffeine and if she's honest with herself, still suffering from the effects of her last use of the peacock miraculous. Even now, all these weeks later, she found herself to be weaker than she was accustomed to. It was as unpleasant as it was a hindrance.

Instead, she finds herself tending to Marinette. It's been five hours now and the girl remains unconscious. Her heartbeat is just about back to normal now however and she's showing some signs of being able respond to external stimuli. The progress is slow and gradual but promising, as she has to constantly both remind and inform her companion. It shouldn't be long before the teen has recovered completely and is back with them. She's obviously feeling the cold, so they've tucker her in with a sheet.

Thankfully, forced stasis asides, she seems to be alright. There's no traces of cuts or bruises on her body. Granted, those would almost certainly have healed whilst she was sleeping but it looks as if she was simply locked in there. Of course, they're going to have to wait for the teen to wake up so that she can tell them herself.

Unfortunately, Marinette is not the only one that Nathalie finds herself worrying about. Now Adrien is a concern for her.

The teen hasn't said much other than to enquire about how his friend is doing. He's quiet. Absorbed by his own thoughts into another world, one which he struggles to make any sense of. He's hurt. Not physically, although that was the case only a few weeks ago but emotionally. Whatever Adrien had thought of his father and believed him to be capable of, imprisoning Marinette in such a way wasn't one of them. He's in shock. Slowly but surely, it's turning into a silent rage which she can see burning away inside of him.

He's yet to transform back into his civilian self. Instead, he sits perched somewhat precariously on the edge of an overhanging oak beam. His gaze rests on the horizon. It's lost out there somewhere in the city. Is it the devastation or his former home that he finds himself focusing on?

She can't say. The woman is acutely aware that it isn't healthy to focus to such an extent on such things. It causes rage to build up and that can only be toxic for such an emotional boy. She's been letting him be for the past little while in the hopes that he might be able to pull himself together. Now however, she's come to the conclusion that he's not up to the task, not alone at any rate.

Nathalie hasn't forgotten his words: I'm going to kill him…

A terrible thing for anyone to say, especially a son who had once wanted nothing more than the love of a man whom he cared deeply for.

"Adrien..." She speaks softly. The teen glances over his shoulder to look at her. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." It's a monosyllabic response.

"Lying is one skill you've thankfully still to perfect." The woman tells him gently. "I'm not a fool-"

"I never said that you were." He cuts her short, seemingly insulted by the mere implication.

"I know that you're angry, hurt, that you feel betrayed..." She continues on regardless of his interruption. "It's your right but you can't let those feelings take you over. They can be hard to shake off."

He turns away from the city so that his back is literally facing it. She now has all of his undivided attention. Even behind the mask, Nathalie can see the pain lingering behind the boy's eyes. She's worried about just what damage it could do to him if he keeps it all bottled up. Then, there's what he might do if that rage takes over him, especially in a situation where he could soon find himself confronted with the man responsible for it all. Angry people can be stupid. They can be easily tricked or worse, end up doing something that they then deeply regret. She doesn't want that for Adrien Agreste…

There's a silence for a few moments. It's clear that he's got a lot of his chest which he is eager to try and get off but doesn't quite know how. Finally, after a bit of stuttering and a few false starts, he manages to get out:

"Gabriel… How could he-?" It seems that he's struggling to express himself. "Marinette, she didn't deserve that."

"Of course she didn't..." Nathalie assures the teen. "You're father is desperate. I suspect he probably took Marinette without thinking of the implications. He probably thought that you would arrive in a matter of minutes to rescue her. When you didn't, he found himself with a captive he didn't know what to do with."

"Yeah." The teen speaks bitterly. "I would have if I wasn't busy bleeding out whilst being crushed to death..."

It's hard to know just what to respond to that. She decides against telling him the simple fact that Gabriel would never have done such a thing to his own son. Somehow, she doubts that it would make the situation any better. In fact, she's pretty sure that it would only exacerbate things. Adrien had suffered at his father's hands, there was no denying that much, the knowledge that whilst the man didn't mind inflicting such a fate on a stranger but would hold back from harming his own flesh and blood did little to redeem him. What he lost in sadism, he made up for in selfishness.

Nathalie lets out a sigh. The truth of the matter is that in her mind the man's become near insane with grief. He wants his wife back. Understandable. Unlike the majority of the population though, he sees that there's a way of reviving her. As she slips further and further away, he's grown increasingly desperate and as a result reckless.

"If it weren't for your mother-" She speaks quietly, almost under her breath. "He would never do any of this."

"I miss her too!" The boy snaps, emotional. "-but I'm not destroying the city and sending people to la la land because of it!"

"I know and that's because deep down, you're a better man than your father but-" But what? "Love can do strange things to people's heads."

Adrien frowns. He's not a stupid boy. She knows that much. His emotions sometimes get the better of him. It can make reasoning with him complicated. Recent events have pushed him close to breaking point. He's a fragile soul…

They avoid an argument. Instead, Cat Noir's eyes fall upon the still unconscious figure of his friend. She matters far more than the few strands of lingering loyalty to his father. She's both a source of guilt for him, a constant reminder of his failure but paradoxically also represents hope. If Marinette recovers, then in some small way, he might have redeemed himself. If nothing else, they'll likely need her assistance if they want to defeat Hawk Moth. She might have some precious information they can use, relating to the current whereabouts of the Ladybug miraculous or alternatively could still prove useful if they manage to find her a replacement.

"She's still coming to." The former assistant informs her charge. "It could easily be another hour yet."

"I know..." Adrien mutters, unable to look away.

"Maybe, now that she's no longer in any danger, it would be wise to follow through with our plan. There's no sense in Hawk Moth getting his hands on another miraculous."

They had both agreed on that much. That was before they had discovered Marinette in such a state of course and now, she doubted that the teen would be willing to part from her for even the briefest of periods. She would have liked him to leave. Even if it was just for the briefest of moments so as to clear his head a little. Being away from all of this would do him some good. She wasn't expecting him to forget about it but at least he wouldn't be faced with a constant reminder of just what his father had done. It would be at least a little more peaceful and give him the opportunity to reflect on matters a little more thoroughly and objectively, if it were still possible.

She was expecting an argument, resistance. Instead, Cat Noir slowly got to his feet. Perhaps sensing that he needed to get away from all of this, even if it was only for a little while. He said nothing as he turned back towards the city. His gaze lost somewhere in the horizon; it takes a few seconds before he turned to look over his shoulder:

"Call me if she wakes up?"

"Of course..."

She gets a nod as a response. He's gone a few seconds later, much to the relief of the woman. Hopefully, it would be enough to ease some of the turmoil within him. With any luck, by the time that he returned, Marinette would have woken up. That would no doubt calm him somewhat.

The city is quiet. It was still too early for most people to be about. Cat Noir moves quickly but silently. He darts, never slowing. It was Plagg who had given him the directions, technically breaking a promise but as the kwami had pointed out, these were desperate times and required measures which were suited for them. Nobody would challenge him, not right now. He keeps himself focused. This is something of a nuisance to the teen, he would much rather have stayed by Marientte's side, waiting until she was back with them so as to be able to greet her and apologize.

As such, when he reaches the small apartment, he doesn't bother looking around. He sneaks in through the window, no doubt left open to try and ensure that there's some fresh air coming in to relieve the occupant from the stifling heat of the Parisien summer. Adrien was quiet. He tiptoed in. He followed his kwami's directions towards where the Miracle box should in theory be stored. They are basing all of their assumptions on the fact that the man would still be here and wouldn't have been scared away by the constant akuma attacks and the realization that neither Ladybug nor Cat Noir were around to protect him and the city.

To his surprise and relief, Adrien finds the man to be asleep in his bed, snoring loudly. A least there's still someone here to who knows about the miraculouses. Hopefully, he will be able to help them in the future. Cat Noir spots the gramophone and makes his way towards it, treading as silently as possible. Thankfully, it would appear that Master Fu is a deep sleeper as he doesn't react to the intruder. _Hopefully Hawk Moth never sneaks in…_ The teen can't help but find himself thinking. He'll be as quick as possible: in and out in less than a minute. That's his plan. It's not the one that he initially came up with with Nathalie but things have changed since then.

"Cat Noir?!"

In a flash, Adrien realizes what allows the man to take the risk of sleeping so soundly. He's not alone. There's a kwami here. The turtle by the looks of things, Wayzz… He's staring at the intruder with wide eyes, evidently startled. Panic grips the teen. Instead of doing what would perhaps be considered the logical thing and explaining himself, he turns tail and runs. He makes his way over to the window. Ready to escape. The time it takes the little creature to wake the old man, he will have been able to slip away, at least that's what he assumes. Sure enough, he reaches the point that he entered through.

"Adrien!"

It's been so long since anyone other than Nathalie called him by his real name, that for some reason, he finds himself compelled to stop. Trembling slightly, he pulls himself away from the window and faces the man whose house he just broke into.

Master Fu has lost weight. Whilst part of his condition might be due to his age and the rest of it attributable to the fact t hat he was just woken up by an intruder in the middle of the night, there can be little doubt that stress is mostly to blame. More shame. Adrien had made no attempt to contact him or otherwise alert him to what had happened. He must have been imagining the worst. After all, Marinette was 'dead' and Ladybug's partner nowhere to be seen. It was a wonder that he hadn't fled as Cat Noir and Mayura had. Whilst perhaps that day, it had been inconceivable for him to do anything given the state they'd both been in. Later though? He could have given some sort of sign that he was still alive and that there was still some hope. Instead, he'd abandoned all those he'd left behind, leaving them to fear the worst.

The fact that he lingers, gives the guardian all the time he needs to get to his feet. It's dark but Cat Noir can make him out clearly. He needs to turn on the light to do the same. The sudden influx is blinding, causing the teen to avert his gaze for a few moments.

"What are you doing back here Cat Noir?"

"I've rescued Marinette." He announces simply.

"Marinette?! She's still alive?!" There's a clear note of surprise but also relief in his voice.

"Yes… Listen, if I can just get her a miraculous-"

He notices the man stiffen at the mere prospect. It's very clear that he's uneasy, weary. Somehow, that hurts. This little stunt has made him into someone untrustworthy or at least whose motivations are dubious. It's hard not to regret not having fled. It would be easier than standing here, having to account for actions which he couldn't quite explain himself.

A sudden buzz in his pocket distract him. He pulls out his phone and reads a single message: _She's waking up._

It's the news that he needs to snap just a little bit more sense back into him and it only takes a few moments for Cat Noir to realize that he's not the one in charge here. He needs to explain himself. No doubt Master Fu has a thousand questions to ask him and it's his duty to answer them. So he stands there, ready to be scolded if necessary, to be interrogated. Marinette is safe… He tells himself, he has the time. Putting away his baton, he moves away from the window. It's enough to earn a confused frown from the man. Apparently, his presence here is as confusing as it is unnerving.

"I can't give you a miraculous Cat Noir… Where have you been?"

"I was hurt." The teen explains looking down at his feet. "I needed to heal."

"You have been gone for a while..." The old man still doesn't seem convinced. "Adrien Agreste left Paris over a year ago. Cat Noir however, didn't. What have you been hiding from me and Ladybug?"

The teen is a little surprised that it was the period prior to these past few weeks which seems to have the man suspicious as opposed to his marked disappearance since then. He finds himself unable to respond, having not expected to have to answer such enquiries. Whilst the answers would be simple to give. It would be hard not to potentially land Nathalie in trouble in doing so. He doubted that the guardian of the miraculous would take kindly to learning that one of those who he had put his trust in had run away and thrown his lot in with Mayura. Still, it's with a trembling had that he remembers what he first came here for.

He goes into his pocket and pulls out a broach, offering it to the old man. It's a gesture of goodwill which serves another purpose: if the old man had the miraculous of the peacock, then there's no way that Hawk Moth will be able to get his hands on it again if something were to happen to Adrien and Nathalie. At least that's what they've told themselves in order to provide themselves with some comfort.

"This is-" The man began, unable to finish.

"The peacock miraculous." Adrien fills in for him.

"How did you-" Master Fu stops instantly upon noticing the few cracks. "This is damaged! Have you used it?!"

"No. Not me." The teen shakes his head slowly, gravely. "A friend… She paid the price but she's better now."

"She was very very lucky! Using a miraculous like this, it can- Well, you already know."

Adrien agreed solemnly. He didn't particularly want to think back to how Nathalie had struggled to breathe as her strength was leached away relentlessly. He'd thought he was going to lose her at times… It was a terrible thing and one which no one else would hopefully ever have to suffer again. He doesn't even bother asking if the damage could be repaired, happy to be rid of it. If he never laid eyes on the jewel again, it would be too soon. It has already cost him and those who he loved far too much. Even touching it felt _wrong_.

Getting rid of it already feels as if he'd lifted a great weight from his chest.

He watches as the old man placed it back in the miracle box. It's what should have been done from the moment that it had been damaged. Just what had possessed his mother to use it to the extent that she had is beyond him. Nathalie claimed not to know and he believes her. At least where his guardian was concerned, he understood what had driven her to use it. No sense wondering about it now, he supposes. The broken miraculous is back where it belongs.

"Now…" Master Fu turns around to face him once more, his expression somewhat softer. "Cat Noir, would you care to tell me where Adrien's been?"

"I can tell you some of it." The teen relents at last. "-but not everything. There are people who have been kind to me. They're staying out of this."

"Have you told them about the miraculous?" Strangely, Master Fu didn't sound concerned so much as curious.

"They found out themselves." It's all that he's willing to offer.

Cat Noir takes a seat or at least makes himself comfortable. It allows him to relax, not much but just a little. Enough to feel some of the tension slowly vanish. He's never told anyone about what happened since he fled that night with Nathalie. The one exception would be the woman's grandmother. He's not too sure how much she knows but it's probably more than most. Naturally, they're mostly left out of Adrien's tale, as is Hawk Moth's true identity. All he says is that the villain had discovered who he was and that it was Mayura, suffering from some kind of change of heart which seemed to defy all expectation and explanation, who had rescued him and taken him in. As a result, he'd had no choice but to drop off of the radar for a moment.

Master Fu doesn't ask any questions. He just sits there and listens to him. It's clear that he's taking it all in. If he's dubious about any parts of the story, he doesn't let it show. It gives him the courage to finish the tale, bringing him back up to date with how they had found and rescued Marinette.

He's interrupted towards the beginning by another message from Nathalie: his friend was awake. It was a relief. She'd warned him that the girl likely wouldn't be in a state to do much, if any talking and even once she was awake would likely be feeling the effects of her sedation for quite some time. Realistically speaking, it could be a couple of days before she recovers. Still, he finds himself breathing a little more easily.

There's a silence after he's done recounting his adventures and hardships. It's as if the guardian has to go over everything he's just been told in his head, replaying everything to be sure that he hasn't missed anything. Finally, he turns back towards the young miraculous holder, his expression stern, like a parent disciplining a disobedient child:

"You should have come straight here! You could have avoided most of what's befallen you and your friends..."

Adrien averts his gaze in shame, it's something that he's already acutely aware of. Had he been honest and straight forwards from the get-go and let his friends and allies know just what was going on, then none of this would have happened. It's his most bitter regret and something which he fears and feels will haunt him for the rest of his days. He remains like that for some time, not asking forgiveness or making any attempt to justify his actions. He'll take the blame and anything else that comes with it. Well, almost… He can't hand over his miraculous. Not yet… He's still got one thing left to do.

After a few more seconds, the old man lets out a heavy sigh:

"I suppose there's no point in going over the past. It can't be changed." Adrien's gaze flicks up to meet the man. "The future should be our priority. Marinette is safe?"

"Yes."

"Her miraculous?"

"Hawk Moth still has it but I'm going to stop him." His voice hardens in its resolve, becomes colder.

"Do you have a plan?" Wayzz's interest and hope peaks at the same time.

"I'm going to find him and take him down. Simple as that..."

His response doesn't seem to sit well with both the man and his kwami. The two of them exchange uncertain glances. There's an unease there which doesn't escape the teen. Something passes between the two partners. He can't understand it. It's lost on him. The two have been together for over a century. They're familiar enough with one another to no longer require the constant use of words.

Somehow, that only serves to irritate him. He feels an anger begin to eat away at him. The teen becomes restless as he struggles against it. Truth be told, it's been there since he saw Marinette, encased behind the glass and forced into a deep slumber against her will by his father. It's a rage he's unaccustomed to dealing with. Why is it that Master Fu has been hiding so long? The teen asks himself. He could have done something, anything. Handed out more miraculouses to the others, he must know their identities. Surely, there was someone else in Paris who would have been suited to taking on Hawk Moth and rescuing his previous chosen. There's a sudden feeling of injustice which begins to take over, adding itself to the fury already pent up inside of him.

"Adrien..." Master Fu begins, seemingly sensing what lies just beneath.

"No!" He snaps, teeth bared. "It's about time that someone puts and end to this. If you won't, then I will!"

"You're not powerful enough without Ladybug. Please, you must-"

Both are interrupted by a sudden buzzing. It's his phone. Adrien is a little bit more leisurely when it comes to answering this time. Assuming that it will be another status report from Nathalie. There's but a single name that he finds. Yet it turns his blood to ice in a matter of seconds:

_Hawk Moth_.


	45. A match to oil

**_Author's note: I hope I can get chapters out a bit more quickly from now on. Thanks again for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

Marinette has begun to wake up. That much is clear.

The outside world is now registering fully with her. Through the weak groans and periodic grimaces, Nathalie can tell that she's gradually clawing her way back into their world. It's a battle. The woman is aware of that much. Her own experience with the peacock miraculous had brought her perilously close to death's door. Her memories of the time are faint but she remembers what it was like, fighting tooth and nail to avoid giving in to the urge to sleep. Whilst this might not entirely be the same, it will be a struggle none-the-less and one which unfortunately, the woman can't help her with.

Nathalie's not the most naturally nurturing of individuals. Whereas some might have been inclined to speak soft words, gently encouraging her to wake up or at least to hold the child's hand, she doesn't. She's not all that familiar with this girl, having only spoken to her on a few passing occasions. As such, she simply sits nearby. Her gaze alternates between the teenager and the outside world, still keeping silent vigil.

A few times, the girl's eyelids flutter. She's still too weak to stay awake for any period of time. Still, the woman decides that she'll notify Adrien about the development. It will hopefully raise his spirits and give him some hope. She sends a simple text, nothing more.

Nathalie is a patient woman. Rather than try to force the girl to wake up, she lets her do so in her own time. It will take a while for the various drugs and chemicals which had been forcibly pumped into her to be diluted into her bloodstream and for her to be able to pull herself together. Even if she were to abruptly regain conscious, it's unlikely that she would know what day of the week it is. No… She'll be weak and confused. Likely a child who needs her parents rather than a relative stranger and a masked vigilante.

They'll need to find some way of getting her back to her bakery. A risk given that Hawk Moth will almost certainly be waiting for them. That and there's a chance that she'll mutter something regretful if she's not in full possession of her faculties. So they might very well have to keep her here until they're sure she can both defend herself and that they know exactly what she knows. It seems unlikely that Gabriel would have been careless with his secret identity around the teen. That's if she can remember anything at all. Nathalie can only hope that Gabriel didn't rush putting Marinette under, that he took all of his time and the appropriate precautions to ensure that things were done properly and that neither her body nor her mind were damaged in the process.

An abrupt gasp startles the woman, bringing her out of her thoughts. Marinette is awake and desperate for breath.

She thrashes around like a fish which has just been landed, arms flailing. Fearing that the teen might injure or strain herself, Nathalie is quick to pin her down. She suspects that this reaction is due to a mixture of fright and the shock of her regaining control of her body and the sudden influx from her senses. It's clear that whilst the girl might be looking at her, she hasn't a clue just who she's with or where she is. Thankfully, she tires quickly. Weaker than she might otherwise have normally been herself, the woman knows that it's unlikely that she would have succeeded in subduing her for long.

"It's okay..." Nathalie speaks softly once she's sure that the worst of it's over. "You're safe now."

There's just a twinkle of understanding behind the girl's eyes. She relaxed allowing Nathalie to take the chance of releasing her. Instead, the girl lies there. Calming down but still too drained to react much to her surroundings. She might even doze off once more.

She sends another message, informing Cat Noir that his friend is awake. Sitting there, she removes her glasses and cleans the glass. Having struggled to send the teen away, she now wants him back. Being alone here like this is a reminder than in some way, she's partly responsible for all of this. How many months had she worked more or less actively with Gabriel/Hawk Moth, aiding and abetting him in his schemes. Now, an innocent girl has paid the price. How her parents must be suffering. She tries not to imagine what is must be like. How would she have felt if this was Adrien who found themselves waking up in strange place after being subjected to forced slumber? It was a thought that she would rather not entertain.

The girl's eyes are focused on her. There's more going on behind her orbs than Nathalie had thought possible. Apparently, she's recovering her mental faculties faster than they could have hoped. It's clear that there's some realization there.

She opens her mouth, evidently trying to speak. Instead of any comprehensible words, all that comes out is a dry choking sound. She's back to gasping for air a few seconds later. Nathalie is quick to realize just what's wrong. They had prepared for such an eventuality. Next to her is a bag full of some basic provisions. Amongst them is a medical kit. She ignores it, instead taking a small bottle of water. The woman eases the teen up, so that she is partly resting on her lap. It makes it easier for her to drink. She brings the bottle to the girl's lips, allowing her to take a few tentative sips. It's imperative to ensure that they take things slowly. After all, Marinette's been a prisoner with all her food and nutrients being given to her intravenously. Even something as innocuous as water might be a shock for her.

It does her some good however, no doubt helping to alleviate some of the sore dryness of her throat. It's a good few minutes before she recovers enough strength to attempt to speak:

"Delphine?"

"It's okay Marinette." Nathalie doesn't bother correcting her, no sense in making things any more complicated than they need to be.

"My head… Everything's so strange."

"It's normal. You were unconscious for quite some time." Or so they assumed. "Just focus on recovering."

The girl's too weak to argue. Marinette might even have drifted off once more. Nathalie glances around. Adrien's taking longer than she had assumed he would. It was notionally supposed to be a quick in and out operation. She's smart enough to realize that something must have happened. Her best guess is that he ran into the guardian. If he's gotten into any trouble, she won't be able to help him. It's a simple fact. As dangerous as the Peacock miraculous was, at least it had acted as something of a lifeline – albeit one of last resort – giving her the opportunity to come to his rescue if required.

Without it, Nathalie feels powerless. There's a part of her which can't help but fear the worst, no matter how hard she tries to convince herself that Adrien is strong and more than capable of taking care of himself.

So she waits. It's all that she can do. The teen with her drifts in and out of consciousness but for the periods that she is awake is clearly gaining in both strength and awareness. It also becomes clear that she's not entirely listening to the woman's advice. She's straining herself, trying her best to cast her mind back to the events that had lead her to find herself here. She can't help but inform the woman of what precious little she can recall, perhaps seeking some form of confirmation one way or another:

"Everything's fuzzy… Hawk Moth. He gave me my food. I felt all woozy..." She closes her eyes, groaning with the strain of trying to cast a still foggy mind that far back. "I don't remember much else. There was a big room. After that I just fell asleep."

"You were drugged." Despite her reservations, Nathalie decides to be frank with the girl. "You've been sleeping a while Marinette."

"How long?" There's some fear behind her voice.

"I don't know when he put you under but it's been a little shy of five weeks since the Grand Palais."

"The Grand Palais?.."

For a few moments, it's clear that she has no idea just what Nathalie is referring to. In truth, the events are somewhat hazy in the woman's mind as well, albeit not for the same reason… Everything appears in her mind to be something of a dream or perhaps more exactly, a nightmare. Had Adrien not informed her of just what exactly happened, then she could easily have questioned whether or not it was her imagination which had conjured up some of what had occurred.

Marinette is quiet for a few moments, no doubt trying to remind herself of just what had happened on that terrible day. Reasoning that it's probably best to let her own mind do the exercise of thinking back, so as to allow it to wake up a little better, Nathalie doesn't push the teen or inform her of exactly what happened. She allow her to remember for herself and fill in any gaps if necessary. If nothing else, the woman is keen to allow the girl a chance to try and make sense of everything that's happened alone.

There's a slight gasp after a couple of seconds however, one which instantly earns a concerned look from the former miraculous holder:

"Dylan… Oh Delphine, I'm sorry."

It's something which should have occurred to her sooner. The last thing that Marinette would be able to recall about that day was the building coming down, seemingly crushing Dylan Lebrun beneath it. It had skipped Nathalie's mind that the girl would assume that her boyfriend – if he could be called that – had been killed. By definition, that made her the mother of a deceased teen and therefore someone to be pitied. Already, she can see the emotion beginning to swell up inside of the fifteen year old. The woman shakes her head, eager to put an end to the girl's doubts. The notion that her friend is still alive should help to soothe her nerves and put her on the right road for recovery:

"No." She offers the girl a reassuring smile. "No, it's okay. Dylan's fine."

"What?"

"Cat Noir got him out. He's safe. Just hiding, that's all."

It's a lie but then she's not too sure just what Adrien's plan is as far as secret identities are concerned. He's going to have trouble going back to being an Agreste or a Lebrun at the end of this, that's for sure. All the same, she's not about to give away his secret identity basing herself solely on the assumption that there's nothing to be done about it now. Hopefully, when this is all over, they'll both see the sense in sitting down and having a conversation about everything that's happened.

The news seems to make Marinette a little bit easier. Once more, it's rest that she requires, drifting perilously close to falling back to sleep. Nathalie isn't inclined to force her to remain awake. Although she is beginning to wonder just where on Earth Adrien has gotten off to. He should have been back by now. The woman checks her phone. She sees neither an acknowledgement of the messages that she's sent previously, nor any update about where he currently is. Concerning indeed. Something had happened. She realizes, that she can do nothing but wait and hope. Sending him out now seems foolish. She regrets it bitterly.

Something stirs in the dark. Initially, she mistakes it for some bats. She hates the creatures as they flutter around, almost clumsily, evidently not accustomed to having human beings in their dominion. Something has caused them to fly away though. It has them spooked. Weary, the assistant peers out into the darkness. There is a figure there, skulking in the darkness. Nathalie lets out a sigh irritated. She doesn't know how much clearer she'll have to make it to him that she's not entirely comfortable up here:

"At last! You took your time." Still, he lingers there for a few moments, unsettling her further. "Come on! We don't have enough time for your-"

She stops instantly. Her eyes don't need to see the face of the person in the shadows to realize that she's made a mistake. The silhouette is wrong, now that she sees it more clearly. Panic almost takes over.

Perhaps, in an odd way, she has the lingering after-effects of the peacock miraculous to thank for her not trying to run. She's a little too tired for all that. It dulls her senses a bit. Something which no doubt made her easier to sneak up on in the first place. So her self-preservation instinct, takes a few moments to kick-in. Adrien however, is always present in her mind. She manages to send him a single warning. Her eyes don't even need to fix her phone. She's memorized where the various buttons and the virtual keyboard are through extensive use. He'll get her message but will he come?

Now is not the time to think about such things.

Remembering that she's not alone and that her only companion is currently in a terrible state. Vulnerable and without a hope of being able to defend herself. Acting quickly, Nathalie bends down. She coaxes the girl to her feet. She earns a weak groan in response. Whilst it's clear that she's still suffering, it would seem that the teen is aware enough to know that they're in trouble and that she needs to summon what little strength she has available to get to her feet. She gives it her all but Marinette's legs are heavy and her muscles haven't had enough practice over the past month to even contemplate bearing her weight so soon. She stands, knees shaking. It's immediately apparent that escape, for her, is going to be impossible.

A little over a year ago, Nathalie might very well have abandoned the girl there and made a run for it. In the scheme of things, Marinette is nobody to her. She's a friend of Adrien's, that's it. It would be better to cut her loses and run. Hawk Moth won't kill her but he might not be so hesitant when it comes to dealing with his former assistant.

Instead, feeling some sort of instinct swelling up in the pit of her stomach, the woman gently encourages the teen behind her. Marinette braces herself, holding on tentatively to the back of the woman's shirt. With her right hand, Nathalie provides some extra support. She fixes the figure defiantly as he emerges from the shadows. She won't back down or run. Her heart thunders in her chest, sending fear and adrenaline pumping through her system. She fights both to the best of her ability, struggling to remain calm and stoic.

"That's far enough." Comes the warning as she sees him draw ever closer.

"Where is my son?"

He asks the question in a much more sedate way than she'd been expecting. Usually Hawk Moth is all rage when he'd been denied something. She'd been prepared for a demand. The way he formates his phrase, it almost sounds like a plea. When Adrien had failed to show himself, she realizes, he must have begun to fear the worst or at the very least wonder if he would ever see his son again.

For a moment, despite everything, she feels a twinge of sympathy for the man. He started all of this with the best of intentions. Somewhere along the line, things got complicated. There was a bridge that he shouldn't have crossed and yet, despite knowing what it would mean, for both himself his family and all those around them, he'd chosen to go ahead. Now the two of them stand facing one another once more. She wants nothing more than to hear him declare that this is all going to end. That he's finished and things go back to the way that they once were. It's a pleasant dream. She knows that it's never going to happen…

"Safe." She assures the man. Although in truth, she doesn't have the faintest idea just where he is.

"Safe, _where_?" He raises his voice slightly, anger shining through.

"You know I'm not going to tell you that." Her defiance causes him to draw his sword. "You're wasting your time. I won't betray him."

Nathalie is firm in her resolution. Hawk Moth closes the gap between the two of them despite her prior warning. Unarmed, it's not as if it 's something that she can actively protest against. Her declaration only seems to have angered him further, perhaps she should have predicted that much. She feels Marinette grip her a little tighter. Is it fear for herself, the woman who now has a sword aimed straight at her heart or for both of them. It strikes the former assistant that the teen must understand precious little, if anything that's going on. Unfortunately, there isn't time to clarify and/or bring her up to date.

Whatever facade he'd initially been putting up, Hawk Moth's anger is seeping through. It takes all of Nathalie's self-control not to back down. She takes deep breaths. Trying to ensure that she remains calm and doesn't do anything stupid. With her ex-boss so highly strung, Marinette so vulnerable and herself defenceless, any reckless action could easily result with a body, possibly two.

"You stole him from me!"

"No..." Despite everything, she manages to keep her voice level, almost as if they were having a regular conversation. "You did that yourself. You gave him – us – no choice."

"Everything I did, I did for him! So that he could be happy."

"I know that..." Her voice softens, changing to try and stress her point across. "-but look at what you became. You've put people's lives in danger, maybe worse… You forced an innocent child to sleep. You locked her up and let her parents think that she was dead! She's fifteen years old!"

Strangely, the man stops. His gaze comes to rest on Marinette. She says nothing. Her weakness is enough to make her almost childish in her dependence. As such, the usual brave and feisty teen can do nothing else but shelter behind the woman. Regardless of what he's become, Nathalie knows that deep down inside, there's a part of Gabriel which must loathe what he's done. Deep down inside, he might not actually be a bad man just one who's become warped and distorted by his quest to bring back the woman that he loves and restore some normality to his life and that of his son. It's to him that she appeals.

"What would you have had me do? Let her rot of boredom and cry herself to sleep every night, waiting for a rescue which might never come?! It was a mercy."

"A mercy for whom?! You are becoming a monster. If Emilie could-"

She's pushed him too far. She realizes that instantly. Teeth clenched and rage boiling away inside, he hits her, slapping her across the face so as to silence her. She goes flying and hits the deck roughly. She hears Marinette call her name or rather that of Delphine. Hawk Moth ignores the teen's feeble attempts to stop him. Instead, heading towards the downed former assistant. She struggles to get to her feet, so as to be at least somewhat more prepared but succeeds only in turning herself over.

Hawk Moth comes, his blade aimed right at her. There's a madness behind his eyes, that instantly banishes any hopes she might have still harboured of negotiating with her.

"I won't ask you again Nathalie. Where is my son?!"

"He's safe." It's all that she has left. "Safe, away from you."

"So be it."

She's dead. The thought fills her mind, striking terror into every fibre of her body. She wants to scream but can't quite bring herself to do so. Courage is abandoned but the fear prevents her from crying out or begging for a rescue. Adrien… She thinks of him. Wherever he's gotten off to. He's going to find himself alone. That's her greatest regret. Nobody's going to be there to keep him safe, to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid and to prevent him from burning his next meal onto the pan… The world seems to fade out. She closes her eyes, bracing herself but determined to meet her end as nobly as possible.

"Get away from her!"

It was a roar.

It cut through the silence of the early morning like a knife. The fury was such that it scarcely even sounded human any more. Nathalie's eyes shoot upon, startled. She finds herself looking up to see form of Hawk Moth above her, sword raised and ready to end her life. The man seems startled. His attention is elsewhere, somewhere in the darkness.

It's from the shadows that a figure emerges. It moves quickly, like a bullet but succeeds in knocking the man back by colliding with him. He only just manages to maintain his balance but takes the precaution of backing off, evidently judging that his current position wasn't a good one for defence. Nathalie finds herself with a protector, a young man with green eyes filled with loathing. He stands next to her, anxious, eager to ensure that she's alright. She glances up and gives him a little nod. She's stunned and her cheek is a bit red but otherwise is alright. It's then that the uncontrollable rage returns to him. His teeth were bared, distorting the usually soft and jovial features into a snarl:

"You're going to pay..."

Nobody doubts that's exactly what he intends to do.


	46. Powder keg

**_Author's note: Thanks again for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

It's the first time that Gabriel Agreste has knowingly found himself in the presence of his son in over a year.

He studies Cat Noir. The boy has grown in both size and strength, since the last time he laid eyes on him. In truth, it's less of a boy he finds himself faced with and more of a young man. There's a coldness behind the green eyes which seems alien to all those who knew him. He fixes his parent, unblinking. With one arm, he continues to act as a support, aiding Nathalie in getting to her feet. The assistant says nothing. She too is focused on Hawk Moth. Although still somewhat stunned, she can sense that the atmosphere has changed. Perhaps also guess what's coming.

She tries to make herself as discrete as humanly possible. Cat Noir gives her a brief glance out of his peripheral vision. He doesn't dare to take his eyes off of his enemy for more than a fraction of a second. The woman pulls away from him slightly, silently letting her know that she's okay.

It's all that's required for Adrien to turn his attention back to his father. The man keeps a healthy distance between the two of them. His anger has vanished, replaced instead with something else. In the face of his son, he doesn't seem to know just what to do or how to act. It's as if he can't quite believe that this is happening. Strange, given how he'd demanded that his former assistant tell him where his son was. Had he somehow failed to plan this far ahead? Maybe this isn't quite the reunion that he'd had planned. Whatever the case, they spend a good minute simply staring at one another. It's unnerving for the two spectators. The air has turned cold and it feels as if at any second something might snap.

Finally, it's Hawk Moth who speaks:

"You've changed..."

He doesn't get a response. Cat Noir stiffens upon being addressed. The teen moves to adopt a fighting stance. Lowering his head and tightening his grip on his staff, discussion seems to be pretty far removed from his thoughts. He would have been more comfortable dealing with an overtly hostile Hawk Moth. Instead, there's something about the way that Gabriel is now which causes the hero to hesitate, to hold off on his attack. Maybe it's the girl on the other side of the room, struggling to do so little as stand. He grumbles, it's a warning, a clear sign that he's ready to fight.

Nathalie's mind works quickly. Despite what's happened. She's eager to prevent a confrontation if at all possible. For starters, she's far from convinced that Adrien can defeat his father. He's grown, there can be no denying that much but the boy lacks his father's experience. To compound matters, he's emotional. Right now, it's clear to all those who know him that he's not in the proper frame of mind to be approaching a fight. He needs to be thinking clearly and not have his judgement clouded by anger and hatred. Cautiously, she reaches out to try and take his arm, so as to pull him back. Hawk Moth hasn't adopted a fighting stance. In fact, his sword lies on the floor. It will take him a few seconds to be combat ready. The teen can afford to step down, to relax and hopefully reconsider his position.

To her surprise however, she finds herself shrugged off. It's not entirely aggressive but it's clearly dismissive. Rage blinds him.

"Please, don't let this end in violence." The man pleads with his son. "We can have her back."

Once more, his words seem to do little more than bounce off of the teen. They don't even appear to register. He continues to fix his father. There's something of a wild look in his eyes. The affection which had once been there has vanished. Even the mention of his mother fails to warm his heart. It seems to startle his father, who no longer knows just how to react. The man shifts uneasily. For a moment, he even seems to glance towards his former assistant, perhaps assuming that she might be the one somehow pulling the strings here.

If only… She's doing no such thing. In those few seconds, Nathalie comes to a somewhat terrifying conclusion: Adrien is out of control. Not that she ever claimed to be the one in command but she always had the notion that he would do more or less what she told him, if only because he didn't know any better. Now though, she's certain, something somewhere has snapped and truth be told, she's not convinced that she – or anyone else for that matter – will be able to get the out of control train back on the tracks before it causes some damage be it to itself or to others.

"Monster. You're a monster..."

Venom drips from every word.

Staff drawn, he approaches his father slowly. The menace is clear. Then he breaks into a run. Charging towards his foe. Hawk Moth has to duck in order to avoid Cat Noir's staff. In a flash, the man is on the defensive, staggering backwards in order to avoid the weapon. Adrien isn't holding back. His intention is clearly to defeat the man, quite possibly to inflict some pain along the way.

The shear aggression seems to have taken the man by surprise. He can't quite react. This isn't something he's ever encountered from his son. He regrets not having his cane or the blade concealed within so as to at least be able to deflect some of the blows, maybe slow his attacker. He finds himself struggling on the old wooden beams, stumbling slightly. It's all that it takes for Cat Noir to slam his staff into the man's rib cage. The villain flies backwards. He lands dangerously close to the crumbling wall and gets a sudden reminder of just how high up they are in this belfry. He doesn't have enough time to take in the actually quite beautiful view before he's forced to roll to one side in order to avoid his son's latest attack which threatened to see him bring his weapon back down on his parent's skull.

"I'll kill you!" He roars, giving chase.

"Adrien! Stop this!" Desperate, the man pleas.

Once more, his son pays him little attention. Continuing his relentless assault. Eventually, the man manages to reach his blade. It enables him to at least defend himself. The clash is more even.

Nathalie watches from afar. She knows better than to intervene. Without a miraculous, she could easily be torn apart. At best, she would hinder Adrien. The temptation to try and break up the fight is still there however. Something about this feels wrong. The last fragments of hope that she had been clinging to that somehow, this could end in anything other than bloodshed are shattered as father and son trade blows and she is left alone.

No… Not alone. There's another here.

Marinette is vulnerable she realizes. Despite still being somewhat stunned from the blow she had received only a few minutes prior, the woman gets to her feet. She doesn't let the two combatants out her sight. Creeping her way round. The woman moves quickly, unsure of just how much time she has.

Reaching the teen proves to be a surprisingly easy affair. Father and son are too busy fighting one another to take much notice of their surroundings. Which is why its so vital that she gets the still drained teen out of here. At this point, she could easily end up becoming collateral damage. Perhaps her survival instinct has kicked in somewhat, as Marinette appears to be more "awake" than she had been previously. Her attention is entirely absorbed by the combat however and she doesn't even appear to notice the woman approaching her.

Nathalie takes the girl by the wrist. Partly to gain her attention and also to act as support. Marinette is surprised, blue eyes speak of confusion both at her current surroundings and what's going on. This probably won't mean all that much to her. After all, she has no idea who lies behind either of the masks.

"Come on..." The former assistant does her best to coax the teen away from the pillar she'd been resting on.

"But… Chat Noir."

"You don't have your miraculous." Nathalie reminds her, not all that surprised to be encountering resistance. "Right now, you're more of a hindrance than anything else."

"He needs help."

The woman is about to assure the girl that her partner has this all under control – something of a lie in itself, she doubts Adrien is in full possession of his senses at this point – when she turns around to take note of the fight.

Sure enough, Cat Noir is being pushed back. The rage is still there but he's tiring. That much is plain to see. He's on the defensive now. Gabriel is playing the smarter game. He wears his opponent out. He lets the teen bash away, attacking wildly and contents himself with doing the minimum possible to block or dodge the blows, thus saving his own strength. As a result, the hero's lunges are increasingly frantic, less coordinated. He's breathing faster. At this rate, he'll collapse before he actually succeeds in striking his enemy.

He makes a mistake and it costs him his staff. The weapon is flicked away and lands at the other end of the room.

Perhaps his father assumes that will be enough to stop his son's assault. It does seem to stun him for a few seconds, leaving him unsure how to continue. Then, his eyes snap up from his staff and fix his foe once more. Gabriel shakes his head with disbelief, realizing just what is going to happen but somehow, still isn't quite prepared for it. Adrien lets out another roar of fury and launches himself into Hawk Moth. The man falls backwards and is met with a fist to the face before he has enough time time react. He loses his own blade in the process, forced to drop it as he grapples with the fifteen year old apparently intent on beating him into a pulp.

As they fight, rolling in the dust and the dirt of the old church, the woman who stood by both of them for several years feels her stomach turn. There's something about this that feels so terribly wrong, like a crime of some sort.

At this point, Nathalie wouldn't like to say who's got the advantage. Gabriel is without a doubt the better fighter of the two, having the most experience. His son is still growing and is still somewhat smaller than the man. On the other hand, right now, curiously, it's Adrien who possesses the greater fighting spirit, who is the most aggressive and who fights as if he has absolutely nothing left to lose and paradoxically nothing to gain. He's careless, lashing out randomly in the hopes of dealing some damage, no matter how small.

It takes a few moments for Gabriel to manage to kick him away and put some distance between the two of them once more. He staggers backwards, desperate to catch his breath. The way the man looks at the teen is as if he's faced with some form of abomination. It's a mixture between horror and disbelief. Even for Hawk Moth, this confrontation seems to be rather unexpected, if only in its violence. Cat Noir however still on his knees, breathes through teeth still clenched. His wrath still evident. His body demands a few seconds to recover. Then, he will attack again. He's not going to stop…

So Gabriel tries his best to reason with the boy or at least to get to the bottom of just where this seething rage and hatred are coming from:

"What's gotten into you?" He asks, still breathless.

"You left your own son to die!" The teen hisses, wiping some spit away from the corner of his mouth.

"What are you talking about?!" Hawk Moth is truly baffled. "I'm your father!"

"You could have saved him!"

Adrien's mad or so it seems.

He's exhausted, his legs tremble but still he gets back up. Once more he throws himself into the man. They're back to fighting. At this point, neither are particularly coordinated. Any strategy has been thrown out of the window. It's abundantly clear that Cat Noir's only preoccupation is inflicting pain. He's clawing at the man, kicking, doing everything he can. It's a savageness that they don't know how to deal with neither the man on the wrong end of it or those watching.

Marinette stares, eyes wide with horror. Nathalie, perhaps a little bit more aware of just what's driving this ruthless brutality, looks for a solution. She's reluctant to get in the way and to try and physically pull the two apart. Given how they're going at each other, she can imagine someone not in possession of the protection of a miraculous getting torn to shreds. A quick glance between the two women confirms that they're thinking the exact same thing… They have to try something.

"Cat Noir! Cat Noir!" Nathalie calls out in vain, he's not even paying any attention. "Adrien!"

Even his name fails to register. He's too far away, wrapped up in whatever folly's taken possession of him.

He is tiring though. Gabriel manages to kick him away and he doesn't get back up instantly. Instead, he lands, breathing deeply struggling to summon some strength to get him back onto his feet. Twice, his arms and legs give out beneath him. Physically shaking from the exertion, he turns around to face his father. The man approaches quickly, giving him no chance to recover. Still, he grits his teeth and tries his best to meet his foe. This time though, Hawk Moth seems to be determined to put an end to it. He goes for the boy's ring, grabbing for it. Adrien curls up in a ball, eager to protect himself. Desperately holding on to his miraculous.

"Enough of this!" Gabriel sounds like what he is: a father who has lost his patience.

They struggle for a while longer. Adrien refuses to give up his jewel. All the same, it seems as if his father is going to get the better of him. He's willing to put up with the pain of a few kicks and punches now that most of their impact has been lost, spent in the earlier stages of their fight. Slowly but surely, the man manages to uncoil his hand, until it's only his ring finger which remains. Then, Adrien gets desperate. He sees the man's hand and bites it.

Gabriel howls with pain. He staggers backwards, clutching at his wound. The man hissed and cursed loudly. Adrien had failed to break the skin. Perhaps the damage would have been greater were it not for the protection granted by the miraculous. That would only shield him from so much however. He hops around, clutching the wound in an attempt to ease some of the pain. After a few seconds, he seems to dominate it. He shoots his son a glare. Adrien smiles. It's the look which seems to say "what are you going to do about it?".

Of course, Hawk Moth reacts.

The man grabs his sword, moving quickly. Adrien is too weak to stand. He manages to turn himself over. If he can't stand but pushes himself backwards in an attempt to put some distance between the two of them. It's Hawk Moth's turn to be enraged. The hand which holds the blade trembles. His eyes are narrowed and teeth clenched. As Cat Noir moves, he finds the end of the sword pricking at his throat. A warning that his parent is at the end of his rope.

"Stop this madness! I don't know what's happened to you but if I have to kill you to take the miraculous, then I will! I can wish for Adrien, my Adrien back just as easily as I can Emilie!"

"Then… Do it."

Cat Noir actually leans forwards so that the skin of his neck is applying some pressure to the man's blade. He must be hurting himself. He is. There's a couple of beads of blood around where the sword is touching his skin. Still, he doesn't pull away. He keeps his eyes focused on his father, not even blinking. If he's in any pain, he doesn't let on to it. It seems to be something of a challenge to the man. Apparently, his son doesn't seem to think that he has the guts to go through with his threat and is at this point practically egging him on.

Gabriel shakes his head, struggling to come to terms with what he's seeing. The rage vanishes, replaced instead with horror.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Gabriel!"

The cry from behind him causes the man to glance away for a couple of seconds. It's Nathalie. She rushes forwards, ignoring the miraculous holder. It's his son who matters to her. She practically tackles the boy, pushing him away from the blade. It seems to calm him a little. The madness doesn't quite vanish but it becomes lesser. His expression softens ever-so-slightly as it rests on the figure of a woman he knows and loves. Some of the boy returns.

She holds him close to her chest. Shielding the teen as much from his father's blade as from his own rage. Even now, she can feel that a part of him wants nothing more than to throw himself back into the fray and to get once last chance to get some payback. His own exhaustion and her arms around him are the only things stopping him. Even now, he glares at his father. Eyes full of pure hatred. She tries her best not to pay much heed, instead focusing on the only person whom she feels she can still reason with. Gabriel gives her a pained look. His own anger replaced with sorrow as he fixes a son he can no longer recognize.

Slowly, his blade is lowered:

"You know I don't have it in me..."

"I know..." Nathalie tells the man, her voice soft.

She allows her grip around the teen to loosen slightly. He doesn't react. Breathing deeply as he struggles to recover from his exertion. He refuses to let his father out of his sight. Whether he's trying to make his hatred actually felt or if he just doesn't trust the man enough to dare close his eyes. Nathalie relaxes, ever-so-slightly. Despite the seriousness of the current situation, it feels as if the worst of the danger has passed. For the first time in months, she feels as if she's with a man she knows, her former boss as opposed to whatever he had become.

He turns away, unable to bear the way that his own flesh and blood is looking at him. It's with a quiet and hushed voice that he declares:

"I never wanted any of this to happen."

"Of course not." Nathalie is understanding and patient. "You're a good man Gabriel."

"It's over now." He sounds a little bit sterner, abruptly remembering just why he's here. "Let me put an end to this. Give me his miraculous."

"You're right..." The woman lets out a heavy and regretful sigh. "It is over."

The main raises his eyebrows, confused. The meaning of her words is lost on him.

From behind comes Marinette Dupain-Cheng, all but forgotten about in the commotion. She doesn't have much strength but she uses what little has returned to jump up, wrapping her arms around the man's neck. He's caught off guard. The teen is quick, she has her target in her sights. It's a similar move to the one that he had used to take her earrings over a month ago. Maybe she'd planned it during her time awake in the villain's lair. Whatever the case, she takes the broach in her hand and allows herself to fall back, taking it with her.

There's a cry and Hawk Moth's mask falls.


	47. Masks fallen

**_Author's note: Once more, thanks for all of the reviews! They mean a lot._**

**_/_**

Time seems to be standing still for those gathered in the rafters of the old church. Even the bats and insects seem to have come to a stop. Is it possible that the world has stopped rotating on its axis? It certainly feels that way.

Gabriel stands before them, stunned. He can't seem to process just what exactly has happened. Blinking, he turns slowly to face each of those who had conspired together to bring him down. It's not anger so much as shock which lies behind his eyes. It's almost as if he hasn't quite realized that he's no longer Hawk Moth. His miraculous has been torn away from him and now he finds himself unmasked in front of the group. He spins around, clumsily.

At this point, he is the only one still standing. Marinette's used what little strength she had been able to recover in order to steal his miraculous. Nathalie is on her knees, her arms still loosely drooped around Adrien, ready to act should the same folly take over him once more. He lies on his side, propped up somewhat by her lap. The teen pants, trying his best to recuperate after the fight. The woman takes the opportunity of the few brief moments of piece to give the – at this point she's close to calling it "self-inflicted" - wound on his neck a quick glance. It's a puncture from the tip of the man's sword, thankfully whilst it's over his oesophagus, it's only managed to pierce the skin. There's some blood but his life is by no means in any danger. A band-aid and some antiseptic should just about cover it.

The man becomes somewhat more frantic. Perhaps he's abruptly been made aware of what just happened. The last slivers of hope deserting him as he realizes that he's lost.

"No..." It begins quietly, little more than a mutter. "No. No! No!"

His gaze falls upon Marinette. She's still clutching his miraculous close to her chest. Desperate, he forgets that he isn't alone and lunges at the teen. She rolls to one side, eager to protect herself and prevent him from getting his hands on the broach once more. He only gets so far before a staff collides rough with his hand causing the man to yelp.

He spins round to face his son. The teen has gotten back to his feet and is armed. The blow was no doubt rougher than strictly required but he's keen to make it clear that the man has been defeated and therefore must be on his best behaviour. Whilst he might not be attacking his father with the same brutal savagery that he'd used earlier, there was still a cold fire behind his eyes which promised to be terrible should it be unleashed. Nathalie stands behind him and keeps a weary eye on the hero.

"Don't you touch her." Adrien snarls.

"Do you even realize what you've done?!"

He gets shoved by the end of the staff as Cat Noir forces him back. He groans, more in discomfort than anything else. His resentment towards his son is clear but that look behind the boy's green eyes seems to be enough to discourage him from doing or saying anything for the time being. So long as he's calm, Nathalie can breathe a little more easily. She's still not entirely comfortable however, giving Adrien another nervous glance.

"I'd shut up if I were you." It's the only warning the man's going to get.

The sooner this is over, the better. The woman realizes.

She takes a chance and approaches Marinette whilst Cat Noir stands guard of their prisoner. She helps the teen to her feet, acting as much needed support. It's amazing she managed to retrieve the miraculous given how much her legs are shaking. No doubt the adrenaline is beginning to fade, reminding the fifteen year old that she just spent the past five weeks in some form of stasis. Pulling out all of the stocks has taken it's toll. No doubt it will be quite some time before she has fully recovered.

They had worked all of this out, more or less. Her concern now is that Adrien isn't going to carry through with their plans. So she's eager to ensure that he doesn't have enough time or the opportunity to deviate from them. If they act quickly, it might avoid him lingering on matters and his rage taking over once more. They can't leave though. Not just yet. Between Marinette and Gabriel, they still have some issues to deal with. In many ways, they could yet prove to be more complicated than actually defeating Hawk Moth, albeit, almost certainly safer. With one teen too angry and the other still recovering, it's the former assistant who takes over matters:

"Where's the Ladybug miraculous Gabriel? It's time we put an end to this..."

The man turns to look at her, offering her a cold look but says nothing. This is exactly what she'd been afraid of…

Gabriel may be defeated but he's not about to make this any easier for them. She sees his son tense up. Cat Noir will have little patience with the man, making her job all the more difficult. It's hard to conceive of a way to convince him to return the stolen miraculous however or to tell them just where he had hidden it. He has no reason to do so. The very thing which had made him such a terrible foe and so desperate also means that he isn't about to aid those who had prevented him from achieving his ultimate goal. On the other hand, it's almost inconceivable that they could allow the earrings to be lost. Perhaps some time is all that it will take for the man to realize the error of his ways. That however, she is aware, is wishful thinking.

Marinette stirs. She's shaking and putting a fair amount of weight on the arm of the ex-assistant so as to prevent herself from falling. She stares somewhat uneasily at her former captor. Of course, the masks falling will have been a surprise, not to say a shock to her. She fights her own surprise however, aware that there are more important matters to deal with at the moment. She can ask questions later on.

"Hawk Moth, he put them in this locket." The girl informs them, wincing as she does so.

Nathalie instantly knows what she's referring to. It's the man's most precious possession. All eyes fall upon him once more. The woman knows for a fact that he'll have the locket on him. He always does. The furthest it even gets from him is when he sleeps. Then, it remains by his bedside, within easy reach. Instantly, she knows that they're going to have a problem. Sensing that the game is up, Gabriel recoils instinctively, hand pressed firmly over his pocket. He adopts a defensive posture. His eyes dart over the three of them, readying himself. He will put up one hell of a fight, clinging onto the image of his wife for dear life.

The man doesn't stand a chance of course but he's no coward. Realizing that things could get ugly, the man's former assistant thinks quickly:

"Just hand over the earrings. You can keep the locket."

It's a compromise. The best that she can come up with and hopefully one which can avoid another fight breaking out.

Still, Gabriel seems reluctant. He tenses up, steeling himself once more and for a few seconds, she's certain that he's going to refuse. Adrien grits his teeth, evidently readying himself to have to get physical once more. His father's gaze meets him once more. He fixes his son, the young man who has become a stranger to him. It's with a heavy sigh that the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a locket. He opens it. Staring longingly at the image of his love, he picks out two small earrings. Cautiously, the man extends his hand, offering the jewels not to his son, who is closer but instead to Nathalie.

The woman steps forwards, still cautious. She's not about to let Gabriel pull a fast one of them. It would seem that his intentions are honest however as he hands her the jewels, which she in turn is quick to return to their rightful owner.

Marinette takes them with a trembling hand, still bracing herself against the wall so as to be able to stand. They wait patiently as the teen somewhat clumsily slips them back on. There's a flash of light and a small kwami appears. Nathalie might have smiled at the warmth of their reunion. The girl is clearly a mixture of confused and distressed by everything that's happened and finding herself back in the company of her beloved partner is an obvious relief. The woman however is a little more preoccupied by her charge. He seems oblivious to what's going on. His father is the only thing which he's focusing on and there's still a coldness there which she doesn't much like the looks of.

The transformation into Ladybug seems to do her some good, no doubt it gives the teen a much needed boost of energy, reviving her. She definitely looks steadier on her feet, even daring to venture away from the wall which had been supporting her. Seemingly emboldened, she dares to approach the group.

The look in Cat Noir's eyes changes abruptly. He fixes her out of his peripheral vision, albeit keeping his staff raised in his father's direction. Strangely, his friend's presence seems to unsettle him somewhat. He seems almost nervous. As soon as her eyes fall upon him, he shifts away. Squirming under her eyes. Maybe it's the fact that both of their masks have been seen through which makes him uneasy. Whatever the case, he abruptly approaches the man, putting an arm around his shoulders.

"See you later."

It's not much of an explanation but it's all that the teen offers before darting off into the night taking his father with him. He ignores Marinette's cries; be they to ask him just where he's going, begging him not to leave or desperately calling out his name. Nathalie makes no attempt to stop him. She has to trust that the boy still has enough self-control not to do anything foolish and to carry out their plan.

Instead, she waits until it's become clear that Adrien won't be returning. The woman allows Ladybug to understand that much, gives her a few moments to process things. In the meantime, she gathers the few belongings that she has with her. She'll have to move quickly if she wants to be at the rendez-vous point on time and avoid them waiting for too long. The woman is acutely aware that the longer they are left idle, the more likely it is that something will go awry. She's rather tempted to slip away, to leave Marinette here and assume that she'll be able to take care of herself. Nathalie reasons that she must be getting increasingly soft as she doesn't do so but rather glances over her shoulder towards the confused teenager, still looking out over the city in search of her friend.

"Are you going to be alright?" The woman eventually finds herself asking.

"Cat Noir..." Marinette mutters, still not turning round to face her. "He's Adrien?"

"Yes." There seems to be no point in lying.

"And Gabriel Agreste, he was-" It would seem that she can't even finish her sentence. "… How long has he known?"

"A while now."

"That's why you ran. You never went to China."

Nathalie nods slowly in response. No doubt the teen has a thousand questions to ask but unfortunately, there isn't enough time to deal with them. Nathalie is acutely aware that Adrien will likely have reached his destination by now and will be waiting for her. She doesn't want to risk leaving him too long.

Marinette tears herself away from the view over the city and turns around to face the only remaining adult and person who might be able to explain just some of what's happened here. She can tell that she's been kept in the dark about just what exactly is going on. She's distressed and once more Nathalie is torn between joining a boy whom she knows will almost certainly be in danger of getting into trouble and lingering just for a few moments longer to ensure that his friend is alright. The woman glances towards the stairs and then back towards the young woman whom she's faced with. A minute, that's all that she allows herself:

"Go back home Marinette." The woman advises in a soft voice. "Your parents will be missing you."

"-But, Adrien, Mr. Agreste..." The teen remains torn, that much is clear.

"Don't worry. I'll deal with them." It's a promise that she intends to keep. "For now… I think the city could do with some miracles."

Marinette raises her eyebrows. A look of confusion occupies her face. After a few seconds however, the woman's meaning seems to dawn on her. Once more Ladybug turns to face the city. For perhaps the first time she sees it as opposed to the absence of her friend. Her home is a mess. The akuma attacks have taken their toll with nobody to stop them and no one to put things back to the way that they should have been. The people will be desperate. They don't know what's happened tonight and that the man who has plagued them is defeated, his miraculous still clutched firmly in the hand of the girl they used to turn to to save them.

She's distracted. It's an opportunity that Nathalie decides to take to sneak away. She assumes that now, Marinette will have other things on her mind and won't notice her escape. She'll need to see her parents, let them and her friends know that she's still alive. Then there will be the Moth miraculous to give back to the Guardian… Yes, the teen should have her hands full for the foreseeable future. It should give the former assistant the opportunity to ensure that things are in order and to ensure that Adrien is alright.

She's half way towards the stairs before a voice calls after her:

"So Dylan-"

The image of a teenager with brown hair and brown eyes resurfaces in her mind. He's a little bit timid, shy and offish but when he opens up, it's to greet them with a wonderful smile. She pictures him sitting there, waiting for her to come home and meeting her enthusiastically. Those days seem so far away right now. Nathalie isn't one to think back to the past all that often. In her mind, there isn't much to be gained from it other than melancholy of one form or another. Still, despite everything, there's something about thinking back to those days that causes a smile to creep onto the corners of her lips, despite her best efforts. They'd been poor, living in a crumbling building with virtually non-existent heating or hot water in the winter and that turned into an oven in the summer whilst simultaneously being on the run from a supervillain but for some reason, it's not that that which remains in her mind so much as the picture of a beautiful smile waiting for her at the end of a long and tiring day's work.

"Dylan was my son..."

She leaves it at that. Disappearing as a bright flash illuminates the sky to a cry which Paris has been missing for the past five weeks and the city is healed.

Ladybug has done her part. Now it's time for Nathalie Sancoeur and Adrien Agreste to end this, once and for all.


	48. What remains

**_Author's note: Sorry again for the massive delay with posting this chapter. It is a little bit longer than usual but that's not much of an excuse. Thanks again for the reviews!_**

**_/_**

Adrien arrives at the designated rendez-vous spot and waits. It's quiet around the square, still too early for anybody to really be about. Good as it means that nobody is there to see Cat Noir drag one of the biggest names in fashion along by the collar before unceremoniously dumping the man on his knees on the asphalt. On the other hand, it does leave him alone with the man.

Initially, he tries to ignore his father. After all; if a tree falls in the forest and nobody's there to hear it, does it really make a sound? He hopes that if he can avoid focusing on the man, then he might be able to pretend that he isn't there. He'll just fade out of existence and become nothing more than white noise. If he can just succeed in blocking him out, then Cat Noir will be able to find some peace.

Perhaps surprisingly, Gabriel is being quiet. He hadn't even complained or made an attempt to grab his son's miraculous as the boy had feared that he might. The man makes no effort to get to his feet. Instead, he remains there, on his knees. His son does everything in his power not to pay him any attention. Instead, he focused on Nathalie and her words of advice. They'd planned for this after all. It was imperative that he remain here, preferably out of sight – although that was relatively easy given that nobody else was around – and wait for her to join him. She would be there shortly. Given the distance that he'd travelled, which wasn't actually that much in the scheme of things, he would only have to be patient for five or ten minutes. He doubts that the assistant would be long. She wasn't about to stop for a sightsee at this early time of the morning with something so critically important still to attend to.

Patience is all that is required.

There's something that eats away in the back of his mind however. His gnaws at his bones and muscles. An itch that he can't scratch, a temptation which every second he's forced to struggle against yielding to. Try as he might, the rage remains. He sees Nathalie, both times that she was in bed, battling for her life leaving him by her side powerless. The image of Marinette's face, emotionless and still as she was forced to remain in a deep and artificial slumber. The weight of the concrete and iron atop his back somehow returns, threatening to suffocate him once more. The screams of Parisiens facing another akuma attack and tears of the Dupain-Chengs as they wept on the interview, desperately pleading for news of their daughter, echo through his ears.

There's only one man to blame for all of it. Adrien can't bear it. He turns around to face his father.

He's met by loathing. Gabriel's teeth are clenched and there is nothing but anger behind his eyes. For a moment, it baffles the man's son. He can't quite understand why his own father would look at fix him in such a manner. He hasn't done anything to justify such a dark and hostile look. The incomprehension lingers. The boy finds himself staring at him, unable to speak.

"Do you even realize what you've done?!"

Instantly, the teen understands just why Nathalie had advised him to ignore the man as much as possible.

He realizes that he is being blamed. For what? He's not entirely sure. It doesn't seem to matter. The effect is almost instantaneous. It feeds the anger inside of him. Justifying it. It's something that he knows he needs to fight. He can still see the looks of horror on the faces of both Marinette and Nathalie as he'd fought his father. Even at the time, he'd been aware that he was going too far and that he shouldn't have been allowing anger to get the better of him. He just hadn't been able to help himself. Letting it all out was a relief, a much needed release of tension which felt as if it could very easily lead him to explode.

Once more, he tries to do the smart thing and ignore his father. Anything to avoid the rage from boiling over. It's not easy to block out so much hatred and ill-feeling however. Whether it's consciously or not, he finds his gaze to constantly be darting back over to the man, so obviously waiting for a response. So the teen tries to convince his parent to change strategies and become more discrete by shooting him a glare. It doesn't have the desired effect. In fact, if anything, on balance, it probably makes things worse:

"I was doing it all for you, you know! Things could have gone back to normal! We could have been a family again."

"I'd shut up, if I were you." Adrien growls his recommendation lowly.

He doesn't want to hear any of this. He doesn't need to be reminded that his mother is in a glass coffin, trapped in a magical sleep from which she will now almost certainly never awaken. He's to blame in part for that. His father's not entirely wrong. He could have handed over his miraculous. A wish would have been made and they would have been reunited as a family. He'd made a choice. Emilie Agreste wouldn't be waking up and in return, someone, somewhere, a complete stranger maybe a good-hearted soul, maybe a monster in human flesh, would go on living. That's his decision and something that he's going to have to live with.

It's a painful decision and one which he doesn't want or need brought up again.

It's hard to tell if Gabriel is oblivious to the fact that he's touching a nerve or if on the contrary, he knows what he's doing and is trying to provoke a response. Whatever the case, he's pushing the teen closer to the edge by the second. Clenching his fists, Adrien does his best to try and concentrate on something, anything that will prevent him from loosing what precious little 'cool' he has left. It's a tell that his parent picks up on. Just what he's trying to achieve, it's impossible to guess but he continues, regardless of any potential consequences:

"You killed your own mother!"

"Shut up!"

Something inside of him snaps. It's the last restraint holding back the monster.

Adrien's not too sure what happens next. Everything's a bit of a blur. There's a shrill yell: a mixture of pain and surprise. His body is numb. All he knows is that his fingers have found their target. It's like his muscles and body are acting of their own accord. They know what needs to be done. All he has to do is give in. He relinquishes control and lets the rage and desire for vengeance take over. This needs to be done for Marinette, for Nathalie, for everyone who his father has ever harmed and would potentially hurt in the future. Cat Noir tightens his grip ever-so-slightly around the man's neck as he thinks about all the people who have suffered because of Hawk Moth's folly.

Someone somewhere is calling his name. It doesn't seem to matter right now. He'll answer them later.

"Cataclysm!"

The word slips off of his tongue as easily as any other would. He feels the destructive power course through his free right hand. One touch will do. Then all of this will come to an end. He'll be free and those who have suffered will be avenged.

Someone's screaming at him. It's getting louder all the time. What he initially assumed he could ignore is becoming difficult to pretend isn't there. It's calling out to him, drawing the teen out of whatever world he'd managed to seal himself into. Everything gradually comes back into focus as the rest of existence seems to matter. It isn't just his anger any more. He finds himself faced with a familiar set of blue eyes. It's Nathalie. She made it…

Something's wrong however. The way that she's looking at him. Well, she's never looked at him that way before. Her eyes are wide with fright and he can't understand why. It's only after a few seconds that he realizes that the former assistant is standing now between him and his father. Not quite but she's definitely turned herself into a barrier of sorts, preventing him from having clear access. If one touch would kill his father, it would do the same to her. He's not inclined to take the chance. Adrien can't understand. He realizes that she's protecting him but why? He's done her about as much harm, if not more, than he's caused his own son.

Once more, it's anger that gets the better of him, as well as a feeling of injustice and betrayal.

"Get out of the way!" He practically spits at her. "He's got to die!"

"No he doesn't… You're angry and hurting. You're more than this."

Some of what she's saying reaches his ears. There's a part of the teen which is screaming at him. It knows that this isn't right and that if he goes through with this he'll regret it.

He's tired though. So terribly tired with all of this. The temptation to take the easy way out and make sure that nobody else, not him or any of his friends or even a stranger has to suffer for this man's actions is one which is difficult to resist. What would the other parisiens say if they knew that it would be possible to put an end to Hawk Moth once and for all. To ensure that the man behind the mask would never come back to haunt them? He doesn't want to be a hero. All he wants is for things to stop hurting. He doesn't want anybody else to end up trapped in an artificial sleep or being crushed under rubble.

"Adrien… Look at him. That's your father."

The teen turns away from the woman who stands in his way. His gaze focuses once more on the face of the man whom he currently has by the throat. For the first time, it's not Hawk Moth that he sees, even though the disguise fell long ago but rather his father. The man is frightened, that much is clear. He claws at his son's hand, desperately trying to convince him to release or at the very least loosen his grip. Somehow, that hadn't registered before. The numbness which had overtaken him was probably to blame for the fact that he hadn't felt any pain.

There's still a voice in the back of his mind however which remains stubborn. It tells him to end this. To give in to his anger and to end this, once and for all. It's maddening. Were it not for Nathalie… She seems to sense his hesitation, continuing to try and reason with some part of him, neither of them are sure still exists:

"Do this, you'll be alone."

"No I won't." It's the cold part of the teen which speaks this time, arguing. "I'd still have you."

There's a pause. One which speaks volumes. Adrien fixes her, trembling slightly. His eyes dart from her back to his father. Still torn. He seems uneasy, letting out a soft whimpering sound. Nathalie hesitates. This isn't something she's trained to deal with. Her best hope is to reach the boy whom she prays is still in there. Let him see what he's doing. She changes that plan slightly. Does something that she never usually would and plays on his fears. It's not something that she's proud of but desperate times call for desperate measures…

He doesn't want to be alone.

"Adrien, I'm here for you, I promise but if you do this..." She doesn't know what to say, how to phrase it. "It's not just Gabriel you'll be killing. I stand by another monster."

He fixes her with a pained look. He can't be alone. The teen is too broken for that. In an instant, Nathalie knows that her threat has hit its mark. She feels some shame but reasons that it's probably on balance better than the alternative.

Adrien is physically trembling as he turns back to face his father. Finally the anger has vanished. Instead, there's little more than fear there. He releases Gabriel who falls to his knees, gasping for breath. Whilst his son might not have been strangling him, he's certainly given the man a fright. Perhaps he'd underestimated the anger within. Nathalie isn't about to question just what had been going through his mind. The teen seems desperate to put some distance between himself and his parent. Evidently it must make things a little easier to bare.

She gives him a moment, enough time to recuperate and perhaps to realize just how close he'd come to disaster. The teen breathes heavily. With each intake of oxygen, he feels himself come back to his senses a little more.

He looks down to his right hand. It still glows darkly with the power of destruction. How close had he come to erasing his father permanently? Only a few inches. Too close. He dares to turn back to the ever-patient Nathalie. The woman stands with her hands folded and a look on her face which just seems to say "take your time". He nods slowly, silently acknowledging that he's gone too far. It's time to put an end to it.

"Plagg. Claws in."

He closes his eyes, allowing his disguise to fade away. A sense of exhaustion overcoming him once more. Perhaps Nathalie might have been more forthcoming with providing some support were it not for the elephant in the room in the form of the boy's father.

Gabriel gawks at the teen he finds before him. The recognition in his eyes is clear. Whilst he might have changed slightly since the last time they had found themselves face to face, it's still impossible for the man not to recognize the boy he thought he killed. All he can do is stare with a mixture of horror and disbelief. The contact lenses are gone. Those orbs are no longer a dark brown but instead an only too familiar shade of green. His staring proves to be irritating for his son. The boy shifts, as if trying to escape some invisible force before settling on giving him a cold warning glare.

"You!" The man cries out.

Adrien's face distorts into a grimace which Nathalie can't quite identify. She spots clenched teeth. A sure sign that the anger has returned. Hands ball into fists as he covers the distance he had just put between himself as his father in a couple of strides. He stands over the man who is still on his knees. Gabriel looks up at the boy powerlessly. He doesn't attempt to run or to shield himself from any potential blows.

She readies herself, least he try doing something stupid. Adrien raises his hand and for a moment, she fears that he might be about to strike his father. Instead, he grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls it down, exposing the scarred flesh hidden beneath. He shows him the wound, displaying it for the whole world to see so that there can be no doubt. If the wound has almost completely healed up at this point, thanks in no small part to the stitches he'd received at the hospital, it remains visible as a discoloured and somewhat grizzly mark on his flesh. He has other scars from the incident he could show but this one speaks the loudest.

"I said you left me to die..." Adrien speaks in a low voice.

"I didn't know!" Gabriel has changed, practically pleading to get his point of view across. "If I had, I would never have-"

There's a yell from the boy and his fist connects with the man's face sending him crashing backwards into the asphalt. He stays there for a moment, clearly stunned. Adrien hadn't pulled his punch. After a few seconds, the fifteen-year old's father succeeds in pulling himself somewhat together. He shakes his head, there's some blood dripping down from his nose but it managed to escape being broken. Still, he's clearly in some pain. Very few people would try to punch Gabriel Agreste, even fewer have succeeded. Without the Moth miraculous, the blow feels very different, especially when coming from his own flesh and blood.

Nathalie is quick to hurry the teen away, forcing some more distance between the two of them:

"That's enough!" She commands raising her voice this time.

Her stern resolve is enough to discourage any further attacks. Like a disobedient child in a classroom being told to go and stand in the corner, Adrien skulks away so as to put a few yards between them.

The former assistant is quick to lead her boss away. She doesn't go far. Just enough to ensure that they're out of earshot. She gives the teen a brief glance as decides to make this as quick as possible. She's not entirely comfortable being around her former boss like this but his son is in no state to assist her, so that means she's the only one who can do what still needs to be done. She takes the envelope out of her bag and presents it to the man. Gabriel, perhaps still somewhat dazed from the blow, just stares without understanding:

"It's a plane ticket. One way to China. You're going to be dealing with the company management over there for a while."

It could have been one of the debriefs that she had given to him so regularly whilst under his employ. This time however, she's forced to add a slight menace to her tone. Informing him that there's to be no refusing, debating or pleading. He will get on that plane. Even if Nathalie Sancoeur and Cat Noir have to escort him on board and strap him in place themselves. There isn't enough room for both father and son in the city and given how much damage the former has already caused, it's evident which one of them has to be as far away from the miraculouses as possible.

Their motivations aren't entirely unselfish. If Gabriel leaves Paris, it means he isn't arrested. No questions will be asked about just how involved his son or personal assistant were. Nathalie finds herself potentially looking at not having to go to jail, which is in her eyes an unexpected bonus. She had been convinced that this was all going to end in tears. It might still but at least they have a chance to go their own separate ways without the authorities getting involved. Of course, the thought of exile is difficult to stomach. He grimaces, repulsed by the mere notion of being forced away from his home.

"You can't be-"

"Gabriel!" She raises her voice in tone but not volume. "This is the best offer you're going to get. Take it. Leave. If not for yourself… Then for your son. There isn't much left of him."

He glances over his shoulder, back towards the teen who refuses to do so much as even look in his direction. It's clear just what Nathalie is referring to. There's something not quite right about him. The way that he stands there isn't quite right. He's both there and not there. Certainly, it's not Adrien Agreste as either of them would know him.

Gabriel's never been a brilliant father. It just wasn't a skill set that he seemed to come equipped with. Even with his wife by his side, whilst he'd made some effort, it was pretty obvious that it wasn't something he was all that comfortable with. That didn't mean that he doesn't love his son however. Nathalie knows that he does. That's what she'd betting on. There's still enough there for him to do the right thing. Maybe defeat will humble him, make him see some reason or at least realize what stands to be lost. He fixes the boy for a few seconds. His face is impossible to read. All the woman can do is pray.

Finally, the man lets out a soft sigh and turns back to her:

"Look after him for me."

She nods once and he starts walking. In an ideal world, they would accompany him, ensure that he does indeed board the plane. Circumstances make that impossible. He'd be a fool to try anything else… Still, the woman watches until he's disappeared into the darkness of the early morning.

It's getting later and they should probably be finding some shelter. If nothing else, the assistant is almost falling asleep. She's been on her feet for the best part of twenty-four hours. Turning back towards Adrien, she finds that he hasn't moved. He continues to look towards where his father disappeared, as if he expects or maybe hopes to catch one final glimpse of his parent. There's something which remains off about his behaviour. Any notions she'd held on to about him returning to normal once the danger had passed are quickly dismissed. She gives him a few more moments before cautiously approaching.

"Adrien..." The woman speaks but receives no immediate response. "Adrien, it's time to go home."

"Home..." The teen whispers under his breath. "Home..."

He laughs. It's not much at first, just a little giggle, a snicker. Nathalie frowns. There's nothing about the current situation which would warrant such a reaction. Still, Adrien continues to chuckle before breaking into full out hysterics. His laughter is loud, seemingly uncontrolled. He'd doubled over. Clutching at his ribs. Plagg puts some distance between himself and his human partner, taken aback by his partner's sudden outburst. The joke is lost on everyone except from the teen. It's not something which he manages to shake off after a few seconds either. The attack lasts. It's a wonder that he's still breathing.

"Home?" The teen manages through his laughs. "What does that even mean any more?"

Nathalie doesn't rush up to him at first, aware that something's just snapped. She's inclined to allow him to relieve some of the tension by himself. The only way that he's going to be able to do that is if she allows him to let it all out.

Whether it lasts half a minute before he seems to become aware of his surroundings once more. His eyes fall back upon his two companions, the woman and kwami who have stuck by him all this time and who even right now, refuse to leave his side. He seems confused but at least the demented laughter has ceased. There's a brief pause as he struggles to catch his breath, before he finally asks:

"Don't you think it's funny?"

"No..." The woman mutters softly, her eyes fixing him compassionately. "No, I think it's sad."

He fixes at her as if she had just spoken in Greek. Blinking a few times, her words don't seem to make any sense to him. He doesn't respond, turning instead to Plagg who fixes him with a pained look, silently begging the boy to return to his senses. The stare-off lasted a few moments when time just seems to stand still.

Adrien's legs tremble. He falls.

Nathalie rushes over to the teen who has collapsed to his knees. His laughing has ceased. Replaced instead with another sound, one which she recognizes easily but that remains heartbreaking all the same. Plagg beats her there. He settles on his friend's shoulder, nuzzling up to him in an attempt to provide some comfort. The teen raises a hand so that it rests on the kwami holding him close. It's clear, as he spots her approaching, that he tries to muffle some of his sobs. The tears, he can do little about but in some sort of bizarre attempt to maintain some composure, he evidently struggles to hold back any other noises which might indicate his suffering.

The woman gives him some time. Slowly, she kneels down next to him. Settling down quietly and calmly next to him. She puts her own feelings, other than sympathy aside for a few moments. Adrien doesn't immediately respond. Instead, he continues to sob as quietly possible. Tears flow down his cheeks, leaving marks against his dirty skin. Grief? Pain? Perhaps a knowledge of both what has been lost and what has been gained and the sacrifices that it had entailed. There's some guilt as well as he realizes just how close he had come to doing the irreversible.

"It's over now, right?" He asks her after a few moments, almost fearful.

"Yes. I think so." She assures him, reaching out so as to place a hand on his shoulder. "You did good, Adrien."

"Did I? I almost-" He stops himself, shaking his head slowly as another sob catches in his throat. "I lost my mother, my father… What do I have left?"

"You've got me, kid!" Plagg assures his partner. "You've got Nathalie."

"You're a lot of things Adrien but one thing you're not is alone." The woman hesitates before doing something that she seldom does: giving her word. "I promise."

Adrien turns to face her. Green eyes are red from the tears that continue to fall down his cheeks. The teen hesitates a few moments before reaching out and wrapping his arms around her. She returns the gesture allowing him to spill the last of his tears.

There is a certain feeling of relief and closure. Paris is rebuilt from the debris. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is free and Hawk Moth is no more. Finally, they could look forwards to getting on with their lives. The question is what's left of Adrien Agreste's that could still be salvaged? That was something that they will have to deal with in the future. Neither of them can face it right now. They're exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally. It's been a year and still, Adrien finds himself feeling about as lost as he had done that first night they had fled. Try as he might, he can't make sense of anything that's happened or see where he's going to go now that his main mission is over.

"I… I think I need some time." He mutters quietly. "That makes things better, right?"

"Sometimes..."

At least, Nathalie reasons, now, time isn't something that they have to worry about. They're free.


	49. Survivors

**_Author's note: Thanks for the reviews and really sorry for the delay! I'll try and keep it shorter for_****_ the next one. _**

**_/_**

A car pulls up on a small dirt track. It's engine cuts out but none of its occupants dare to leave the vehicle.

They've come a long way and find themselves faced with rather little to show for it. This town – no, village – is tiny and seems to almost have been cut off from the rest of the world. Nestled within the dry mountains of Provence, it's hard for three people all of whom have seldom left the city to envisage anywhere more isolated. In fact, they would likely have assumed this is the most far removed one could get from civilisation and still claim to be in France were it not for the fact that they were actually looking down at the city from atop an opposite hill which lead to an old farm which could have been standing here, unchanged in well over a hundred years.

Their current surroundings breed some concern amongst the group. Not only because of the fact that on a track made up of dirt and rocks as opposed to asphalt or even paving slabs, the little van they used for delivering bread was woefully inadequate and that they felt oddly exposed in what felt like wilderness but the mere circumstances for coming up here were such that they would have been on edge even in the best of conditions.

"Honey, are you sure this is the right place?" A woman asks from the passenger seat.

"Yes." She checks her text message and the GPS coordinates just to be sure. "This is the place."

Timidly, the girl gets out of the back. After such a long journey, she's a little uneasy on her feet and braces herself against the car for a few moments as she tries to get her bearings. _This isn't Aurel…_ The girl thinks to herself, _but it is a small village in southern France_. Perhaps some of Dylan's story was true. Could the teen have taken scraps of truth and reality, sowing them together and weaving in some knew in order to form a greater tapestry of lies?

She looks towards the small cottage-like building. If she'd imagined the boy living anywhere, it was a place like this. Isolated and peaceful. No wonder he seemed to struggle so much with Paris life… Marinette finds herself hesitating none-the-less. There is enough about the current situation to make her feel uneasy. All she has her miraculous, true but she already knows that will only do so much if she finds herself suddenly ambushed. Still, they've come this far. They can hardly turn back now. She owes it to her friend, both of them – in fact all three of them.

They've called. She must answer.

The teen takes a couple of steps forwards before a strong hand on her shoulder stops her. She turns round to face her father. Ideally, she would have come alone but given the distances involved, that was impossible. So she finds herself here, accompanied by both parents. Given that at one point, she'd honestly believed that she would never see them again, it comes as something of a relief and a comfort. She feels childish but knowing that they're here, it's like no harm can possibly come to her. They have her back.

"We're coming with you."

She doesn't argue. Whilst her parents would typically be considered to be lenient, at least when compared to some, they have a way of addressing her from time to time which makes her unwilling to utter even the slightest protestation.

They make their way up the dirt trail towards the house. It's all quiet. Then again, it's getting late. Around here, there's no traffic. At this time of the evening, everyone will be back home, spending time with their family and preparing for dinner. The Dupain-Chengs had debated whether or not it might be best to wait for the next day so as to not risk disturbing the inhabitants of the sleepy little place. They'd decided against it however, deeming that if Marinette had been summoned, then it could potentially be urgent.

They were practically at the door before they spotted a figure sitting in a chair outside on the porch. It was an elderly woman. She frowns upon seeing them. There's a certain look of weariness about her. No doubt she doesn't often receive visitors, much less strangers. Seeing a family up here like this must come as a bit of a surprise. Still, Marinette knows that there's no going back. So she steps forwards, offering the elder a gentle smile, intended to reassure her:

"Hi… I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng. We got a message about Adrien Agreste, Dylan Lebrun and Nathalie Sancoeur?"

The woman shouts, loudly. Marinette's initial valiant attempts to make sense of any of it are quickly abandoned. She speaks too fast for them to be able to comprehend her thick accent. Whilst Dylan had at times been challenging to comprehend, she'd always got the feeling that he was making at least something of an effort to ensure that they could understand him. This isn't the case here however.

It takes the girl and parents a moment to realize that the woman isn't yelling _at them_ but rather yells _for_ someone else.

A woman emerges from the building a few seconds later. In a tee-shirt, with her hair undone, the dye gone and little to no make-up, it's almost impossible to recognize her. She appeared softer. Perhaps maybe also a little bit older too. Different at any rate from the busy and formal assistant of Gabriel Agreste whom she'd had to deal with on occasion. She looks a little tired but otherwise more sedate. Apparently not having a boss who also happens to be in the process of trying to take over the world - or whatever it was exactly that Hawk Moth had planned – seems to have done her at least some good.

She gives the group a somewhat weary smile. It's a welcome of sorts. Confirmation that she's relieved to finally have someone else here. It's not exactly reassuring. If she's called them here, then Marinette can't quite help but wonder if something might not be right. Dread fills the teen as several of the worst possible scenarios pop into her mind:

"I'm glad you could make it." The woman speaks softly, a slight southern twang has made it into her voice. "I take it you found us okay?"

"Well, it's a little bit out of the way but we're here now." It's Tom who addresses the woman.

"Honey, would you like some privacy?" Sabine whispers into her daughter's ear.

"Yes. Please..."

Nathalie seems to have planned this out quite clearly. It doesn't take much for the elderly woman to start attempting to chat to the Dupain-Chengs. As far as Marinette can tell, she's offering them some _apperitifs_. She doesn't question the matter, allowing herself to be lead away by the woman.

They walk along the dirt path. It's dusty and the heat in the air is pleasant as it radiates off of the stones and rocks. It's somewhat awkward for Marinette. She doesn't know much about the woman and is still confused about just what had happened that night. The girl opens her purse, giving Tikki a brief glance. The kwani nods, seemingly encouraging the teen to go ahead. She's had a million questions since Cat Noir and Nathalie had vanished a few weeks ago. Now though, there's something about this place which makes the girl timid. She's almost fearful of the answers that she might receive.

"I'm sorry for not coming to you sooner." It's the woman who eventually ends up breaking the silence. "Things have been… Complicated."

"It's okay." Is it? Marinette's been worried sick… "I can imagine. What happened? You guys just seemed to disappear."

"We kept a low profile for a bit." Nathalie informs her. "We had to make sure that Gabriel had left Paris and was no longer a threat."

"I saw that he's in China now." It had been all over the news and in all of the gossip sections fashion magazines. "That was your doing?"

"I was the best way out for all of us. Although I'll admit it doesn't permanently get rid of the threat." The woman's face becomes a little darker at the thought. "I don't think we'll ever be able to turn out back on him completely."

Marinette can only agree. She's still struggling to come to terms with just how on Earth Gabriel Agreste could have been Hawk Moth in the first place. Master Fu – with whom she'd felt obliged to share many of the developments – had been able to explain some of it, especially when they'd consulted Nooroo. If the man's exact motivations were now known to him, it was more just what could drive anyone to such lengths which perplexed the teen. It scared her. The fact that a seemingly ordinary man would turn themselves into a monster was terrifying, especially when the number of miraculouses still scattered throughout the world was taken into account.

Gabriel was gone now. It wasn't quite the best outcome but both Ladybug and the guardian had been forced to agree that for the moment, it was about as much as they could hope for.

"What about Adrien?"

"He left with me. Being around Paris…" Nathalie closes her eyes, as if trying to repress some unpleasant memories. "It was too much for him; nightmares and panic attacks, that sort of thing... He needed to come out here and think for a bit."

"So… Why call me?" Marinette hesitates slightly, upon listening to her description. "Sounds like he needs some professional help."

"You're his friend. As for the therapy, it has crossed my mind but he'd have to tell the truth for that. I doubt he'd want that."

Marinette didn't feel well enough informed to comment one way or another. Instinctively, she felt rather more inclined to agree with the woman but decided none-the-less to play it safe and remain quiet.

The more that she heard, the more she found herself dreading this reunion. The image of the boy that she wanted to keep in her mind was that of the ever-optimistic and smiling teen, not whatever he had become. In the back of her mind, it's impossible to forget the madness behind Cat Noir's green orbs as he'd fought his own father. There was something strange, monstrous about the hatred which she'd found lurking inside of him. She's here now though and isn't entirely sure if she's going to be able to make any difference to what sounds like a desperate case…

They end up climbing up the side of a hill. It's a strange thing for a girl who has lived only in Paris to find herself confronted with. The slope is steep and she's not all that comfortable. Nathalie doesn't seem all that bothered, perhaps more accustomed to the local countryside. She seems to know just where she's heading. Marinette is anxious. Each step feels as if it might have been a potential mistake. They lead her ever closer to something that she's not entirely sure that she's prepared to face…

A top of the hill is both a herd of goats and someone whom she thought she would never see again.

He sits on a rock, his back turned to them and is seemingly oblivious to their presence. He contemplates the sun as it sets over the hills in a respectful silence, admiring the red and gold glow. Marinette stares in a stunned silence. How long has it been? It must be six weeks at this point. Still, she can't quite believe that it's him.

"Dylan..." She breathes out in a sigh.

The teen tenses up and looks over his shoulder. Eyes widen abruptly as they recognize her. There's something different about him… She doesn't question it any more than she already has. There's a sudden softness behind her friend's gaze. A relief, mirrored by her own. There had been a time, when both had assumed that they would never be together again. Now, the world collapsing feels like a very long time ago. One has slept through much of it and the other hidden from it. No words seem quite capable of describing just what they're feeling.

They approach one another slowly, taking tentative steps. It's almost as if the other is a mirage or some other form of illusion and might vanish at any second. When they finally are standing less than a foot from one another, it's only to stare longingly. Neither dares move or even speak for a few moments. Nathalie is little more than a spectator, neither pay her much attention. Finally, Marinette takes the final leap and wraps her arms around the neck of a boy she'd thought was potentially lost forever.

It takes him a moment before he returns the gesture, holding her close against him. As soon as he does, he find himself holding onto her as if she's the only thing keeping her in this place or vice-versa. He doesn't question just how she came to be here. It doesn't seem to matter. There's been a hole left inside of him. Part of it, he feels being filled now that the girl who has only ever been kind to him, is back in his arms. For a few blissful seconds, all of his worries fade away and he forgets about everything that's been plaguing him since Gabriel was brought down.

Marinette fancies that she could have stayed like that for quite a while longer. Questions however weigh heavily on her mind, making her restless. She pulls away from the teen. Looking up at him, it's strange but she almost feels like crying. It's the relief of finding herself in the company of someone whom she'd once thought was dead.

"I thought Hawk Moth killed you..."

"Huh?" For some reason, Dylan seems confused.

"The building, it collapsed. They said you were dead." It's hard to believe that he hadn't known as much.

"Marinette, I-" The teen stops, uneasy, he wonders just where to begin. "I think we need to talk."

"We do..." She agrees, pulling away from him.

They settle down. The rocks aren't the most comfortable seats in the world but they're more than satisfactory when it comes to resting. It serves to cut some of the tension in the air. As if the action allows them to relax, to stand down and forget the anxiety which has been troubling all of them these past few weeks. Dylan, much like Nathalie, seems tired, Marinette notes. Perhaps both have been working hard all day and were up at the early hours and now simply require some rest. It's not impossible but this seems to run even deeper than that. In the company of friends, who know who she is, the girl lets Tikki free from her purse. The kwami stays close to her partner, floating sedately.

There's a lot to tell and yet none of them seem too sure where to begin. Dylan shifts, slightly uneasily. He seems distracted for a few moments. He's barely able to rest his gaze on her for more than a couple of seconds. Whatever it is, it's weighing heavily on his shoulders. Finally, he lets out a sigh and dares to look up to see her.

"I- I haven't been entirely straight with you Mari. I'm not Dylan Lebrun."

"I know..." The girl confessed averting her own eyes for a moment. "You're Adrien's half-brother or something? I picked up that much when Adrien was fighting Gabriel."

Dylan laughs. Initially, she thinks that he's making fun of her. Given the severity of what's happened, it strikes the girl as both odd and out of place. Perhaps, she would have been more offended if it weren't for the tone of the laughter. There's some bitterness there. He'd the only one who comprehends what's so amusing and she doubts it's even "_funny_" in the more traditional sense of the word. Something isn't quite right, she can see that now… Thankfully, the outburst only lasts a few moments before he seemingly returns to the solemn teen whom she's more familiar with.

"Not too sure how you worked that one out… I guess things got a little bit messed up back there." He pauses for a moment, becoming glum once more. "I am Gabriel Agreste's son but he only ever had the one..."

She pauses as everything suddenly falls into place.

Adrien had honestly been expecting the girl to freak out somewhat. Maybe to be outraged. Had she been angry, he would have understood. After all, he'd been lying to her, pretending to be someone else for over a year now. Not once had he so much as given a hint as to his true identity. If part of that, he might have been able to claim was for her own good as well as his own protection, he couldn't claim as much after Hawk Moth had been defeated. If he were a good friend and someone who could realistically claim to have her best interests at heart, he would have come clean. Instead, he'd fled and left her in the dark.

She spends over a minute chewing the revelation over. Taking her time, it's impossible to read her expression. Plagg makes an appearance, no longer judging it necessary to conceal himself. He's quick to find Tikki. The two kwamis put some distance between themselves and the humans. They have a lot to talk about.

Finally, Marinette looks back at him. It's as if she's seeing him again for the first time. He tries his best not to shy away as she sees past the dye, the slightly browner skin, the scars and the somewhat haggard expression. He's not the boy she once knew but there's something there, it's faint but it proves that he's not lying. She glances away, heat rising to her cheeks before timidly, the girl turns back to face him.

"Your eyes…" Such an unmistakable shade of green… "I didn't even notice. What were you wearing-?"

"Contacts?" He guesses her next word. "Yes. We went to a lot of trouble to disappear."

He tells her. Tells her everything. From the beginning of that terrible night Nathalie Sancoeur had rushed him out of his home to their new names and finally what had driven them here. She listens in silence. There are no questions. Now that she knows the truth, it all makes some strange form of sense. Little things which had nagged at the back of her mind, seemingly without reason, suddenly make far more sense now. Their disguises had been brilliant. She can only imagine how painstakingly they had both practised and perfected them. It must have taken veritable days of work, if not longer.

So it is that Dylan and Delphine Lebrun are deconstructed in her mind. They crumble away, leaving room for the truth. She's not too sure what to make of that. It's hard not to wonder just how much of their relationship had been fabricated and how much was genuine. She finds herself unwilling to ask. Afraid that she won't like the answer. Now isn't the time to start wondering about such personal things.

She tries to get her head around everything that they tell her. It's a lot. They don't hold back any truths or try and downplay anything. It's facts which she is presented with. Some of it, she can tell, the teen isn't all that proud about. He played the 'tough guy' true but it also allowed him to vent his frustration, his rage with the outside world. It's impossible not to think back to his outburst as Cat Noir upon confronting his father. She'd never seen Adrien behave like that. Cat Noir had been known to suffer from the occasional moody episode and Dylan on the other hand could be decidedly temperamental. It causes his friend to wonder which had been closer to the truth. Were they three very separate people (in which case, which ones were the mask?) or did each of them harbour a part of the real young man?

"So… Which one was the real 'you'?" It feels like a strange question to ask but she can't help it.

"I don't know..." He confesses, lowering his head. "Adrien was always so perfect, maybe a bit too much. Cat Noir… Well, I felt free but then I didn't have to worry about who I was or how I was acting with that mask on. Dylan… I guess that's just who I became because I felt I had to but then… I sort of fell into it a bit. Now, I'm not too sure just who I am."

Marinette didn't answer. In truth, she didn't quite know how to react to her friend's confession. Increasingly, she could understand just why Nathalie had summoned her here. He's lost and needs guidance. The girl doubts that she'll be enough. This is something that she's never been faced with before and therefore has no experience with. She simply doesn't know what to say or what to do. Perhaps, the intention of having her come here had been to remind him of the world that he seems to have turned his back on. To give him something to remind him of just what could have been and might yet be possible.

Whatever happens, it's going to take a lot to put things back together. She knows that much. No doubt Nathalie has already done more than her fair share. This is not the same boy that she'd witnessed fight his father all those weeks ago. He's somewhere in between madness and a loss of identity and knowing who he is. Perhaps he's gotten through the most difficult part or maybe the worst is still to come, whatever the case, in those few moments, Marinette knows that she has one thing and one thing only to offer:

"Whatever you chose… Whoever you want to be. I'm here for you. No matter what."

Adrien smiled softly at her words. There was some sorrow there. Perhaps as he reminded himself about everything that he had once had and since then lost. Something about their relationship had been forever altered. Whether or not they could still build on that remained to be seen…

Without saying another word, the teen gets to his feet. He seems more confident. He's not back to normal. In a flash, Nathalie recognises the mask that he once wore as Adrien. It's the face of a young man who'll pretend that everything's alright, so long as it means that nobody else is worrying about him. The older woman doubts that Marinette is actually fooled by it but perhaps, for the rest of the evening she might be inclined to pretend that everything's normal. Just for appearances' sake. It will be a nice fantasy, for all three of them.

"I can figure it out later..." He tells her glancing further down the hill. "You came with your parents?"

"Like they were going to let me come down here by myself!" She replies, adopting a more relaxed tone. "Besides, I can't drive..."

"Are you?.." He glances briefly towards Nathalie, who seems to guess just what he's about to say. "Staying for dinner?"

"Are we invited?" The girl seems to be a little unsure.

"It's not a problem." Nathalie assures the teen.

"In that case, yes, please. It would be a pleasure."

A silent agreement passes between the three of them. For the rest of tonight, they will get their masks out, hopefully for the last time. It's an illusion but a pleasant one. They can forget everything that has happened.

From tomorrow, it will be time to focus on the future...


	50. Renewal

**_Author's note: Officially last chapter. Sorry again for the delay. Maybe one day there will be a follow up, maybe not. Haven't decided yet. At any rate, thanks for the reviews. Dark, on the contrary I really like constructive criticism, which is what you gave me. You're right. Re-reading the chapters, I can see what you mean and will take it into account for any potential future works. Thank you._**

**_/_**

Nathalie hasn't scolded him for his indecisiveness or tried to push him one way or another. Instead, she stands by his side. Letting him think things over and reflect on matters in his own time. He's talked himself out of it three times before deciding to go through with it once more. This is perhaps the single most nervous she's ever seen the teen. Perhaps it's a new side to his persona that he no longer feels obliged to conceal from the rest of the world or it could be that he's about to embark on a new stage of his life and is realizing the importance of the next few moments. She offers some words of advice and comfort when she deems them required but otherwise prefers to remain silent so as to offer the teen a chance to reflect on the matter in his own time.

Plagg is naturally rather less patient and grows frustrated with his partner's lingering:

"Get a move on kid… Or else they'll be starting class without you."

"I know! I know!" The nerves make him irritable. "It's just… You think this is the right choice? I mean _really_?"

"You can't know until you try." Nathalie informs him softly. "If you don't, you'll end up wondering "what if" for the rest of your days. It'll be fine… And even if it wasn't, we'd find a way to make it work or an alternative."

"Think about everything we've done." Plagg reminds him, floating next to him. "Are you really going to let this get the better of you?"

He shakes his head. Trying to appear more convinced than he actually is. He doubts that it fools either of them but still he tries to look brave. Maybe some of the fake bravado might become real… Reaching out, the teen takes the bag that he prepared the night before and slips it over his shoulders. There are butterflies in his stomach as he contemplates the other teens down below. He won't be the only new kid there. There's an entire class about to start the year off but still he's uncertain and feels as if he's about to take a plunge off of the deep end.

So he finds himself hesitating. There's only one figure present who he feels that he can turn to and so he does.

There's a thousand things that he wants to say to Nathalie Sancoeur right now. One in particular. He's never said it before. It lingers on the end of his tongue but refuses point blank to come. Why? He can't say. Maybe at this point, the words don't quite need to be uttered. The way that she looks at him, wearing the gentlest of smiles, he's aware that she knows just what he's thinking, what he feels. So he doesn't bother saying it and instead offers the woman with a hug. She doesn't protest or even tense up uneasily as she might have done a few months ago. Instead, she returns the gesture. It actually feels natural.

"Thank you..."

"You are always welcome." She tells him, speaking quietly. "Now get on your way before you really are late!"

He nods and transforms. Using Cat Noir's agility to clamber down quickly and silently without being noticed, he makes his way onto the street and changes back. Plagg hides inside his pocket. A place he knows well.

It's somewhere during that process that something occurs to Nathalie. She calls after the teen but he's far too focused on where he's going to hear her. She stops herself from making a real commotion, even up here people might hear. Then they'd find themselves asking just how a woman had ended up on top of the roof. Suddenly reminded that she's six or seven stories up, the assistant finds herself backing away from the edge as carefully as possible. She opts to sit. It's not entirely comfortable sharing space with pigeons but she's safer. _He'll figure it out…_ The woman tells herself. At the very least, she has a bird's eye view of what's going on. She's reminded that Paris can be quite pleasant at this time in the morning.

There's something about all of this which almost seems familiar now that he's staring at his new school. Unfortunately, there isn't the same sense of excitement when he had first attended Collège Françoise Dupont. It's not quite foreboding but he finds himself nervous, apprehensive. One year has sufficed to change his entire view of the world. He's a little more weary, cautious. No longer does he harbour the innocent impression that everyone else is good and pure. He's not his father however and is willing to give things a go. He can't cut himself off from the rest of the world…

And he isn't alone.

In the crowd, he spots her. Warm blueberry eyes and a gentle smile greet him. Instantly, he feels a swell of relief inside his chest. He makes a b-line for the girl who waits for him patiently. In silence, they slip away from the crowd, finding a slightly more isolated part of the street to shelter themselves in. It affords them just a little bit more time and some much needed privacy. He'd seen her just the day before but right now, it seems like an eternity ago since they were last together. They forgo the traditional French greetings.

"You okay?" She asks him somewhat concerned.

"Fine..." The teen averts his gaze for a moment before declaring, somewhat bemused. "It's silly but I think this might actually be the single most normal first day back at school I've had. No sneaking around my father's back. No secret identity. This is me: Adrien Agreste. Going to school."

"How's Nathalie?"

"Oh, she's fine." Adrien assures his friend. "Guess she'll be able to manage the company without having to worry about what I'm up to."

"Because it's always trouble..." Marinette shook her head amused at the mere concept of Adrien intentionally creating mischief for his guardian.

Adrien shrugs his shoulders. Bizarrely, he found his feet quite easily upon returning home. Nathalie is someone who's rather fond of routines and predictability. As such, days can blur into one another quite easily. It's comforting in an odd way. She lets him be if he needs it and is always there when required. It's a fine balance but one which she seems to have come to grips with surprisingly easily. No doubt the year that they just spent together has something to do with it.

Marinette has been paying them visits almost daily for the past two weeks since they returned to Paris. She's a friend. A little bit more in Adrien's case. She's brought Master Fu with her the once… Now he took is round regularly. Somehow, he was surprisingly forgiving about Cat Noir's failings, although they are legion. Plagg had spoken on his behalf. Whatever he'd said, it had served to get the boy off of the hook. With Nooroo and Duusuu safely back in the miracle box, he has a new mission. One which takes up a good deal of the ageing man's time:

"Master Fu said that he was going to your place early?"

"Yeah. He came by before we even left." In truth, he was almost certainly still there. "He's still trying to work out what if anything, he can do."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's better than nothing. At least she's not alone down there. There's still some hope..."

He doesn't dwell on the matter any more than that. Hope is a fragile thing. He doesn't dare cling to it too desperately out of fear that it will shatter and he will fall. His mother might wake up if Master Fu can work some kind of miracle. If not… Well, at least he'll be able to give her a proper goodbye. The teen shakes his head, trying not to dwell on the thought too deeply. When he had something as important as this to attend to, then he had better not allow his mind to wander onto something liable to depress him. As Nathalie had stressed to him the night before, he should be viewing this as a new beginning, a chance to start afresh.

Easy to say, less to actually put into practice.

Try as he might, some ghosts linger over the teen. He can't shake off some of what's happened. His father continues to haunt him. Gabriel's in China. They know that much. He continues to run his business from the country. He creates designs, even sends them through. There's no discussion. At most, they can hope for a couple of notes. All of which are strictly professional. Not once has the man asked after them. Despite everything that happened – including how perilously close he'd come to killing the man – that still hurts Adrien. Evidently his parent hasn't forgotten him but equally, he shows no interest in trying to build bridges or repair what was damaged.

"Give him time." Nathalie tells him, every time the subject comes up. "In many ways, he's as broken as you are."

He'd never taken her for an optimist…

The here and now is what he should be focusing on. It's with a renewed determination that he decides it's time to move. The bell will be ringing any time soon and there's no worse way to start a first day of school off than by being late. Adrien hesitates a few seconds before reaching out and tentatively taking his friend's hand. Marinette blushes briefly but doesn't protest, instead offering him a soft smile. Perhaps she assumes he needs a little comforting, that her presence will give him some much needed courage. As he attempts to begin heading for class however, he encounters some resistance.

She seems reluctant or rather uncertain about following. Confused, he gives her a perplexed look:

"People might stare..." The girl explains a few seconds later.

"Does that bother you?" If it does, he'll let go in a heartbeat.

"No. Just thought you should know."

Sure enough, the first of the two bells rings. It's the one which signals to the students that it's time to get going. By the second chime, in five minutes, they have to be sitting down ready to be taught. It's easier to take the first few steps together. So that's exactly what they do. Only a few people pay them any attention. It's the boy who is the one who gets noticed. He's changed from most of the photos but not beyond all recognition. So naturally, there's some wondering just who the girl who walks next to him is. Although many are quick to put her together with that girl from TV when Jagged Stone had played the role of a baker for the day…

Adrien's presence here is something of a secret. Nathalie has spent her time carefully sowing the seeds for his return to the city so that it appears natural and planned as opposed to a rushed and urgent act. Everything needs to appear natural. It's okay to be nervous but it's imperative that he doesn't give the impression that he's hiding anything.

He's half way into the classroom before his phone goes off. It's a single text message. One which causes him to struggle to hold back a somewhat embarrassed laugh:

"What is it?" Marinette asks him eventually.

"_Man_… She needs rescuing." The girl gives him a concerned look. "I may have left her on a rooftop..."

"Maybe I can buy you some time if you want to-"

"Nah. She says she's fine and to come and get her during the break."

Marinette might have teased him a little were it not for the fact that they have just entered class. It's a different set-up from Françoise Dupont. There are some familiar faces and some less so. New people to get to know for what feels like the beginning of a new life. It's towards those whom he knows the best that he finds himself instinctively drawn. They seem stunned. His presence evidently takes them by surprise or maybe it's the fact that he's holding their friend's hand. Whatever the case, they simply stare.

He offers Marinette a knowing smile before letting her slip away. She goes and reclaims a similar spot to that which she had occupied last year, in college. The girl in the seat next to her is still too stunned to speak.

Adrien sits just in front of her row, next to a young man whose eyes are bulging out of his head at the sight of the teen sitting next to him. It would seem that their attempts to keep things quiet have paid off. Nobody seems to know just how to react.

"Surprised?"

"Yeah..." Nino stares at him as if he's seen a ghost, he can't even seem to formulate a sentence to reply.

"When did this happen?" Alya is a little more collected, excitement and intrigue take hold.

"I've been back for about a week now." The blonde teen informs her, offering Marinette a knowing smile. "Thought we'd surprise you."

"Sorry. Got to ask but are you two… Together?"

They exchange a glance. It's a question they had prepared themselves to face. Whilst it wasn't an issue for either of them, the masks had fallen after all. Some might question just why it was that Dylan Lebrun so suddenly found himself dumped and Adrien, whom Marinette had certainly fancied but had never been able to muster enough courage to speak to. It would seem odd that the two of them had gotten together. For a while, they'd contemplated keeping it a secret and instead trying to act out the two of them getting closer.

It would be more effort than it was worth. They'd decided to play things a little straighter with their friends.

"Yes…" It was Marinette who spoke for the two of them. "You know I broke up with Dylan. After what happened, he's much happier down south. He's planning on rebuilding his life down there… Says "hi" by the way."

"After a year in China, Father decided I would be better off back in Paris. I wanted to surprise you." The comment was directed towards Nino. "So I called Marinette to help. I guess things just sort of continued from there."

They seem to buy the story. After all, why would both of their friends lie to them?

It's not something either Adrien or Marinette enjoy doing but can't think of any reasonable alternative. It will be the last time they lie. With Hawk Moth no longer a threat without his miraculous, hopefully there should no longer be any need for concealing identities and sneaking around behind backs. They can be themselves, more or less. That knowledge is liberating for the both of them. There are people they can share their secrets with other than their kwamis or sometimes Master Fu.

They settle down as the teacher enters the classroom but can't help but exchange the occasional furtive glance, as if to assure themselves that the other one was still present.

Adrien's heart is pounding in his chest but now, there's something else in addition to the fear and uncertainty. It's mounting, gradually replacing them. Excitement takes hold at the promise of a new beginning. Dylan is gone, left behind after his use had expired. Adrien has both returned and changed. Sitting there, his father still casts a shadow but one that is no longer weighing down on him in quite the same way. It's impossible to forget Gabriel and everything that he did, although some of the rage has left his son. The house is warmer for his absence and no longer a place which the teen feels intimidated by. No… His father shapes him by reminding him of what he's not or rather what he can't allow himself to become.

Sitting there, he knows that he's not alone. There's Marinette, Plagg and Nathalie. The future is unclear but at the least, he's reminded that he doesn't have to face it alone.


End file.
